


The Domestic Adventures of Baby Guy and Pretty Boy.

by Bunnywest



Series: Gentleman 'verse [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical Procedures, Mpreg, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-04 06:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 69,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12764946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: Derek and Sam are happily married now.Well, as happily as you can be when one of you keeps flying all over the world to exotic locations, and the other one stays home and pines.





	1. Derek Hates His Husband Right Now

 

His husband sucks, Derek thinks as he takes the elevator to ~~Sam’s~~ their apartment. He opens the door and flicks on the light, and everything is exactly as he left it this morning, down to the lone coffee cup sitting on the bench.

Fucking Sam.

Fucking Sam, flying out to fucking Fiji on three days’ notice, and leaving Derek here to deal with the real world, because he couldn’t get time off work and go with him, as much as he wanted to.

Fucking Sam, sending him pictures of his dumb smiling face and long gorgeous hair with messages saying it’s only a week, as if that helps.

Fucking Sam, sending photos of the view from his hotel, while Derek tries to get a hold of someone to fix their broken garbage disposal.

Derek hates his husband right now.

As if he’s been summoned by a mere thought, Derek’s phone rings, and it’s Sam.

Derek answers the phone with a sigh, saying “I wish you’d get your ass back here, Pretty Boy. I miss you.”

“Yeah, Baby Guy, I know, but four more days and I’ll be back. I’ve shaved a day off the end of the shoot, so I’ll be there on Friday instead of Saturday, and then I’ll be all yours.”

Derek brightens at the news, and Sam can hear it in his voice when he tells him “Thank God for that.”

“I bet you were sitting there looking at the garbage disposal and cursing me out, being a total sad sack” Sam laughs.

Derek feels himself smiling at the sound of Sam’s deep laugh, and admits “Maybe.”

Sam’s voice is rich and throaty as he says “Yeah, you were. You do it every time I’m away. But I’ll be home on Friday, and I promise I’ll make it up to you then, you big sappy idiot.”

“Can’t wait. And I’m _your_ big sappy idiot, and don’t you forget it” Derek reminds his husband.

Sam laughs again, which was Derek’s intention, because he could listen to the sound for days, and then Sam asks ‘Wanna video chat and fool around?”

“Hell, yes” Derek replies eagerly, turning on the camera on his phone.

He never does get round to calling about the broken disposal that night.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek should be home waiting for Sam, but instead he’s having his face slapped by a new mother who for god knows what reason has taken exception to him.

When he met her prior to the birth, she was absolutely charming.

But now, she keeps slapping him and saying “Damn Alphas, all the same, telling me what to do. I know how to breathe!”

Derek resorts to humming and running his hands over her belly, and slowly she calms down. He breathes gently and evenly, and doesn’t tell her what to do, just leads by example.

As she relaxes, her body follows his rhythm, and he murmurs nonsense to her, telling her she’s doing well, soothing and gentling her, and finally getting her through the contraction.

She covers her face with her hands, embarrassed, and apologises.

He laughs, and tells her it’s fine, it’s nothing, and accepts her assurances that she won’t do it again.

She does her best, and she only slaps him twice more before the baby’s born.

It’s a ten pound boy, fat and content and sleepy, and Derek gazes down at him in his arms, and thinks he wouldn’t give this up for the world.

 The baby squirms, and lets out a tiny cry, and Derek reluctantly hands him over to his parents after sneaking in one last squishy cuddle.

He can’t help wondering if he’ll ever hold a child of his own.

Before Sam, it wasn’t something he really thought about, because it wasn’t something that was on the cards.

But now he has a gorgeous husband, and Derek hopes that someday, when he’s had enough of modelling, Sam might agree to have babies with him.

Or even one baby – he’s not greedy.

And he knows there’s no rush, but he’d like to know that it might happen someday.

They’ve discussed it in general terms, and Sam’s not against the idea, but he always says _if_

“ _If_ we have babies’

“ _If_ I’m ever pregnant”

“ _If_ you’re ever a father”

_If._

It’s not a no, but it’s not a yes either.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time he leaves the hospital, it’s nearly dark, and he’s eager to get home.

 

He knows that when he arrives home tonight his Sam will be waiting for him.

He’ll ask “Baby arrive OK?’ just like he always does. 

Derek will tell him about getting slapped, and Sam will laugh about it, but he’ll also run a hand softly down Derek’s face and tell him “It’s a good thing, what you do” just like he always does.

Derek can’t wait. He misses Sam deeply when he’s away - it’s like a physical ache.

And he knows when they started dating they both knew they would have to spend time apart, but he didn’t expect to miss his husband _so damned much_.

Since they married, Sam’s been gone more than he’s been here.

And Derek hates it, but he’ll never tell Sam that.

Sam’s job is what it is, and Derek comforts himself with the knowledge that Sam’s talked about retiring in a couple of years, so this isn’t forever.

And at least tonight, he gets him back, and he thinks it might be for two whole weeks this time, and his delivery schedule’s pretty light right now, so they can actually see each other.

But when he enters the apartment, it’s exactly as he left it, coffee cup on the bench, and no Sam.

His shoulders sag, and he goes to have a shower and sulk about missing his husband.

He strips off his scrubs and drops them on the floor as he walks into the bathroom to shower and wash off the stresses of the day. There’s nothing he loves better than a long, hot shower, so he turns the water up as hot as it will go, and climbs in and lathers himself up, feeling his mood lifting despite himself. He stands under there for a long time, humming softly to himself, letting the water stream down his body and restore his mood.

He’s feeling almost like himself again when he hears the keys in the lock, and his face breaks into a wide smile.

Sam’s home.

He quickly shuts off the water and grabs a towel, wrapping it deftly around his waist but not bothering to dry off, leaving his hair and chest dripping. 

He knows exactly how he looks with the water beading in his beard and chest hair, and he knows Sam loves it.

And sure enough, as he steps out of the bathroom, his husband takes one look at him and sweeps him up in his arms, saying “Jesus, you look good enough to eat.”

Derek waggles his eyebrows suggestively, and purrs “that could be arranged, you know.”

Sam laughs, and then he sets him down and hugs him properly.

They stand wrapped in each other’s arms for long minutes, just breathing in each other’s scent. Finally, Derek lifts his head and Sam leans down and kisses him.

“Sorry I’m late. Plane was delayed, and then some girls at the airport wanted photos, and then there was traffic, and my phone died so I couldn’t call” Sam explains when they finally part for air, and Derek really, really doesn’t care about any of it, because his Sam’s home.

“Missed you, Sammy” he breathes into his ear. 

Sam stiffens in his arms and tells him “Don’t call me that.”

“But it suits you” Derek teases.

“Don't call me that. Ever.” Sam tells him firmly, trying unsuccessfully to pull out of Derek’s arms.

Derek keeps a hold of him firmly, chuckling at his struggles, but Sam continues to squirm, and his face is deadly serious.

There's something about the name that bothers Sam deeply, and Derek doesn't want to upset him, not when he has him back where he belongs.

“Fine. I won’t call you Sammy” he agrees.

“And I did miss you” he adds, before kissing Sam deeply.

Sam responds by undoing Derek’s towel so that he’s standing there naked, and then he pulls back and just looks at him, all glistening muscle and hair and cheekbones.

“Fuck you’re hot. Want you in my mouth” he says quietly, and drops to his knees.

Maybe he doesn’t really hate his husband, Derek concedes.

But he still sucks.

Extremely well.

 

* * *

 

 

After he’s come panting down Sam’s throat, Derek draws him up for a filthy kiss, and starts to walk him backwards towards the bed, but Sam pulls away.

“Nuh uh. I have a surprise first, and you’re gonna like it, and if I don’t tell you now, we’ll be too busy.”

Derek quirks a brow at him, and Sam says “Don’t give me that look, Hale. I promise it won’t take long, and then you can get your hands on me.”

Derek sighs and sits on the bed, saying “This had better be good.”

Sam’s eyes twinkle as he tells him “Oh, it is.”

He takes a deep breath, and announces “I’m home for three months.”

Derek’s mouth drops open in shock.

‘But I thought you were signing a new contract” he queries.

Sam shrugs, and says “Dude, we’ve been married four months. I’ve been home for maybe two of those, and half that time, you were off being baby guy. I miss you as much as you miss me. So I figured, time for a break.”

“Besides” he adds with a sly grin “They’ll pay extra to get me next time. Law of supply and demand.”

Derek stares at him, and then he beams.

“You’re going to be home, pretty boy?” he confirms.

“I’m going to be home, baby guy.”

Derek picks Sam up and throws him onto the bed, and proceeds to show him just how very very pleased he is with the news.

 

* * *

 

 

After, as they’re sprawled in bed together, Derek pulls Sam close and says softly “Thank you, Sam. You don’t have to do this for me though. Only do it if you want to.”

Sam chuckles, telling him “Derek, I’ve been to twenty seven countries in the last year. I’m exhausted. And next time I go somewhere, I want it to be with my sexy werewolf husband, OK?”

Derek hums at the thought. “I haven’t been overseas in years. I could talk to Phil though, see if I can schedule some time off. I’m due for a break.”

“Or, you could just come home from work every day and I could be waiting in bed for you like this, all naked and eager. If you want?” Sam offers with a smile.

“You know I want” Derek replies, and Sam laughs softly.

“I figured you’d say that. It’s a pretty sweet offer.”

Derek growls low in his throat, and he pins Sam to the bed and kisses him thoroughly until his face is flushed and his expression glazed, and Derek can feel him hardening against his thigh.

Sam instinctively opens his legs wider, and Derek slots himself between, and slips inside easily where Sam’s still stretched from earlier.

He presses forwards until he’s fully seated, only pausing to ask “Every day? You promise?” before starting to roll his hips slowly, causing Sam to groan loudly with pleasure.

“Every damn day, if you’re gonna do this” Sam pants out, moving in sync with his husband until they have a steady rhythm going.

Earlier had been hard and fast, a desperate, greedy coupling where they took of each other’s bodies after being deprived for so long.

This is something different.

This is them giving to each other.

Derek makes sure that every stroke brings pleasure to Sam as well as himself, careful to work with the rhythms of Sam’s body, to take his time.

Sam rolls his hips sensually in the way that he knows excites Derek, and he clenches around him deliberately, and arches his back and throws his head to the side so that Derek can scent him.

They take it slow, and their hands roam freely, and Sam looks like every wet dream Derek’s ever had come to life as he lies there writhing and moaning, long hair tousled and sweaty, lips swollen from kissing, pupils dark with lust.

When he comes with a soft cry, it catches Derek by surprise, and the pulsing and tightening of Sam’s body around his cock brings his own release that much closer.

Sam sighs happily under him, and lays pliantly beneath his husband, content to enjoy the sensation of Derek moving steadily in and out of his body, slick and hard and hot.

Derek feels his climax building like a thunderhead, and he doesn’t try and hold off any longer, just drives home in one long thrust and spills inside Sam with a moan.

He collapses over Sam, catching his breath, before huffing out “We're doing this every day. Travel can wait.”

Sam laughs loudly, and the vibrations travel through his body until Derek can feel them where he’s still deep inside Sam, and it feels so damned good that he starts to harden again.

Sam feels it, and stops laughing long enough to say “Again? Damn, you’re insatiable.”

Derek shrugs.

“Werewolf with a hot man in his bed.”

“So you think I’m hot?” Sam teases.

“You know I do” Derek says, grinning, and rolls over onto his back, taking Sam with him.

Sam’s smile is wide and bright as he throws his head back and rides the hell out of his husband.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek and Sam don’t leave the house for three days, and then it’s only because they’ve eaten everything in the place.

Derek has a clear schedule for the next eight days, so they concede that they can probably take the time to go out just once.

They stock up at the store, and Sam gets recognized. It’s a young couple, and the wife is giggling as she takes a photo with Sam. He gives her the required hug, and shakes the husband’s hand.

“Thanks Sam” she gushes, and Sam gives her that lazy grin that’s made him a superstar, before going to find his husband.

When he spots him, Derek’s talking to a woman, and he has a baby in his arms.

The boy seems quite happy snuggled up firmly against Derek’s chest.  The mother is talking animatedly, and Derek’s laughing.

He sees Sam and beckons him over, introducing him to her as “my new husband Sam” and Sam’s pretty sure that the wife recognizes him, but she doesn’t say anything, just shakes his hand and tells him “Your husband’s a good man. He was there for us when we needed him.”

Sam smiles at her before he turns his attention to the baby, asking “Who’s this little guy?”

“This is Hale” Derek tells him, smiling softly, and something in his tone, and the expression on the woman’s face when she looks at Derek tips Sam off that there’s a story here, but he can tell that it’s a story for another time.

“Would you like to hold him, Sam?” the mother offers, and suddenly he finds himself with an armful of baby.

Sam’s naturally good with babies, and Hale’s no exception.

The boy looks up at him curiously, and then reaches out and snags his beanie, giggling as he does so.

Derek chuckles as the baby then tugs gently on the strands of long hair that have escaped, trying to get them into his mouth.

“Don’t eat that, you’ll choke on the product in there” he teases, as Sam gently untangles the child’s chubby fingers.

“Hey, my pretty hair’s how I make my living” he shoots back, and from the corner of his eye he sees the child’s mother nod to herself, as if he’s just confirmed something for her.

He hands the baby back, and tells Derek quietly “I’m gonna finish shopping OK?”

Derek nods, and as Sam walks away he hears the mother telling Derek “He’s a sweetheart. I’m happy for you, Derek. You deserve someone like him.”

And he hears Derek reply “I’m not sure I deserve him, but he’s mine anyway”

Sam grins to himself, and makes sure to load the cart up so that they won’t have to go out again anytime soon.

He has his husband to himself for nearly a week, and he has plans.

 

* * *

 

 

He asks Derek about Hale later that afternoon, while they’re cooking dinner.

Derek tells him the story about the couple who couldn’t keep a pregnancy, and how he’d gone around on impulse, and how apparently it had helped to cry all over him.

He tells him about how the couple had adopted, and named the baby after him.

Sam sets down the wooden spoon he’s been stirring the soup with, and comes over and drags Derek in for a hug.

“How the hell are you so perfect?” he murmurs.

Derek shrugs. “I just wanted to do something for them that’s all. Can you imagine losing a baby over and over again?”

Sam tries to imagine it, and he can’t.

“I think it would kill me” he admits.

“Me too” Derek sighs.

“I mean, it was bad enough when Peter and Stiles were expecting Delilah. The entire pack was on edge, waiting to see if it would all be OK, what with all the issues they had. And Peter was a nightmare the whole pregnancy, all possessive and protective – I had to kick him out of the delivery room when she was born.”

“Is that what you’ll be like when we have babies? All overprotective and growly?” Sam teases.

Derek pulls back and looks at him for a long time.

“What is it? You’re looking at me funny” Sam says finally.

 

“You said _when_ ” Derek  says quietly

Sam’s brow furrows.

“And?”

“You usually say _if_ we have babies. You said _when_ we have babies.”

Sam’s silent for a moment, before replying “Yeah. When.”

“It might not be soon, but I want little wolfy babies with you someday. “

He adds “If you want?”

Derek’s delighted smile is answer enough, and Sam barely has time to turn the stove off before Derek drags him out of the kitchen and into their bed.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://bunnywest.tumblr.com/


	2. Saaaaaaaam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter looks supremely amused as he explains to Derek “You don’t smell like you, nephew. You smell like you and Sam.”  
> “But she’s scented me since I met Sam” Derek replies, confused.  
> “Yes, but how can I put this? You smell like "you and Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I accidentally sat up till three am, so technically I'm posting this tomorrow....

 

When Derek gets fours texts in three days from Stiles saying that Lila’s asking for him, he knows he’d better get over there.

Delilah’s twenty months now, and just starting to show her wolf characteristics. She’ll flash her eyes and growl when she’s excited, and he can tell that she’s feeling the pull of pack more and more. And he’s been making time to see her, but with Sam being home, he may have gotten a little….distracted.

So he tells Sam he’s going to see Peter and Stiles and Lila, and Sam doesn’t hesitate to come along.  He’s never been to Peter’s before, too busy having pictures taken in other countries, so he leaps at the chance, and Peter offers to cook them all dinner.

When Peter opens the door, Derek barely gets two steps inside before his legs are assaulted by a small babbling missile, as Delilah latches onto his pants leg while chanting “Dek,Dek,Dek,Dek!”

He scoops her up and she nuzzles into him happily, scenting him as she always does.  After a moment though, her brow furrows, and she pulls away, and when she says “Dek?” she sounds concerned.

She gives him a slightly betrayed look before holding her arms out to Stiles and demanding “Papa” and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Peter looks supremely amused as he explains to Derek  “You don’t smell like you, nephew. You smell like you and Sam.”

“But she’s scented me since I met Sam” Derek replies, confused.

“Yes, but how can I put this? You smell like _you and Sam.”_

“He means you smell like you’ve been rolling around in bed together for hours, Derek” Stiles supplies helpfully. “I mean, I’m not even a wolf and I can smell it, so yeah.”

Derek blushes slightly, but Sam just looks entertained.

Delilah’s still sneaking looks at Derek, and he can see that she wants to go to him, but her wolf can’t decide.

On impulse, he picks her up out of Stiles’ arms and hands her to Sam.

“She may as well get used to his scent“ he shrugs, and Peter nods approvingly.

“He’s right. Lila won’t care if your scents are mixed, as long as she knows both of them.”

Sam faces the dark haired child in his arms, and smiles at her, his big, easy, relaxed smile, and says “Hey darling, I guess I’m your Uncle Sam, yeah? Aren’t you a pretty girl? Look at your hair sweetheart, all those curls, so pretty…”  and his voice is soft and gentle as he runs a single finger through her ringlets.

Delilah responds to the calming touch and leans forwards and runs her own hand through Sam’s long hair.

He scrunches up his nose at her and wiggles it like a rabbit, and she giggles.

He holds has a little closer as they walk inside, and by the time he sits down with her on his lap, she’s comfortably cuddled against him.

Derek sits next to her and says “Lila, can you say ”Sam?” as he points to his husband.

Lila looks between them, and Sam points to himself and repeats “Sam.”

Delilah can’t take her eyes off Sam’s long hair, and she runs her hand through it again as she sighs out a fascinated “Saaaaaam.”

“Oh good girl, princess” Peter coos at her, and she brightens at the praise.

“Saaaam” she tries again, smiling at him, and he’s officially in love.

He’s only met the toddler three or four times prior to this, and he’s never had close contact with her, but her sapphire blue eyes and dark tousled hair and tiny pink mouth spark something in him that he didn’t know was there, and he sighs without realizing it.

“I know, right? She has that effect.” Derek chuckles in his ear.

“She’s just so pretty” Sam sighs, entranced by Delilah’s delicate features.

Delilah runs her fingers through Sam’s hair once more, and she says “Preeeeeettty…” in a sigh that matches Sam’s.

Derek laughs, and tells Sam “See pretty boy, it’s not just me who thinks so.”

“Pretty” Delilah agrees, and settles herself firmly on Sam’s lap, and scents him.

He tilts his head back to make it easier for her, and she nuzzles in as she gets to know him better

Her Daddy and her Papa and her Dek are all there, and she feels safe enough to catch the scent of this stranger, and slowly she realises that she can smell Derek as well, and that the man smells nice.

She moves her head away after a little, and looks at him, and says “Saaaam?”

“Sam, sweetheart, that’s right” he tells her.

She squirms a little, then climbs down off his lap and totters over to Derek, demanding “Up.”

Derek picks her up easily, and she scents him again.

“Dek” she declares, and after a moment, “Saaam”.

Derek nods.

“That’s right Lila, Derek and Sam.”

“Dek  an Saaam”

She nods, satisfied, and then settles in against Derek’s chest happily.

 

* * *

 

They catch up over dinner, with Peter bringing them up to date on the wedding plans – it’s only two months away, and he’s organizing it with military precision.

“There are spreadsheets. I’m too scared to look” Stiles whispers to Derek, but Derek can tell he’s secretly pleased.

Derek and Sam tell them about Sam being home for another two months, and Peter nods approvingly.

“It’s a smart move“ he declares. “It makes you a rare commodity.  Pushes up your value when you do go back to work.”

“That’s what I thought” Sam agrees.

“Plus, I missed this guy” he admits easily, patting Derek’s thigh.

“Pfft. You’ve got your trashy romances to keep you company” Derek counters.

“No fun when there’s nobody to act out the good bits with” Sam replies, waggling his eyebrows.

As they’re cleaning up after the meal, Sam wanders over to the bookcase in the corner, and when he sees the sheer volume of novels there, his eyebrows raise, and he stares for moment, before smiling to himself.

Peter sees him looking and comes over, saying “What can I say, it’s my guilty pleasure.”

“Hmm.  How long have you been writing them exactly?” Sam asks, and his eyes dance with merriment as Peter stares at him open-mouthed.

His mouth snaps shut and he says “I don’t know what you mean” with a completely straight face.

“Well, let’s see” Sam muses.

“These are all brand new; barely a one of them has had the spine cracked, so you aren’t reading them. They’re all ordered by date published, almost as if they’ve arrived in the post and been put straight in the shelf. Like say, an author’s advance copy.”

“And these here, these older ones? Written by Leah Terpe? Worst. Anagram. Ever.”

He turns to face Peter with a smug look on his face.

“So, like I say, how long have you been writing them?”

Peter stares at him coolly, and Sam holds his gaze.

Finally, Peter shakes his head and chuckles.

“You know, I’m not sure if I should be annoyed or impressed that you’ve figured it out. Nobody else ever has.”

Sam preens a little, even as he asks “Why keep it a secret?”

“Keep what a secret?” asks Derek as he walks over.

“Your uncle writes the trashy novels that you tease me about” Sam tells him grinning widely.

“And your husband is definitely not just a pretty face” Peter sighs, as Derek gapes at him.

Stiles comes out from putting Lila to bed, sees them all looking at the books and asks “What’d I miss?”

“Sam figured out my secret. And now Derek knows too.” Peter tells him, looking pained.  

Stiles cackles loudly.

“Yess! I’ve been keeping this quiet for nearly three years, it’s been killing me! Can we talk about how all the author bios are the same? Oh my god, this is fantastic” he crows, grinning from ear to ear.

Derek turns to Peter and whispers “Stiles kept a secret? For three years? _How?_ ”

“Actually, he did remarkably well. I made him swear he wouldn’t tell, and I knew he would never let me down. He’s far too loyal. He found out when we were wooing, wanted to make sure I wasn’t a drug lord or a criminal mastermind, since I don’t have a visible means of support” Peter explains.

“How on earth did you even start?” Derek asks.

Peter sighs, and makes them swear to keep the secret, before telling them the whole tale.

They laugh so hard they wake the baby up.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam always makes time to go and see his sister and her infant son.

When Derek moved in with Sam, he suggested that Jess move into his loft. “I’d sooner it have someone in it, and I know she needs a place, so two birds, one stone."

Jess tries to pay rent, but Derek point blank refuses.

“One, I don’t need the money, and two, you’re pack now“  he tells her firmly.

When she tries to protest, he tells her “Jess, I only met Sam because of you. I owe you everything just for that.”

And he won’t discuss the matter further.

So Jess is living in the loft with the baby, and she coping well, and it’s largely because of Stiles.  He has has amazing baby taming powers, and he’s happy to  teach Jess all the tricks he picked up when Lila was smaller, or to come and lend a hand, or for Jess to drop Andrew off with him and Peter when she needs a break.

(Delilah’s fascinated with the baby, making small _aah_ noises as she strokes a finger gently down his cheek, and Peter invariably murmurs “She’d be so good with a little brother or sister” and Stiles invariably pretends not to hear him.)

Baby Andrew can’t say anybody’s name yet, all he can do is lay there and coo and blow spit bubbles, but that doesn’t mean Sam adores him any less.

Sam’s expression when he looks at his sleeping nephew is remarkably similar to Delilah’s – he can’t take his eyes off the tiny fingers and toes, the smooth skin, and the rosy lips. Jess pokes him in the side as he peers over the side of the bassinette and says “So, how much longer are you here for?”

“Yeah, I would” he answers distractedly, busy watching as the baby opens and closes his hands into tiny fists as he sleeps.

Jess laughs, and says “That isn’t even what I asked!  You’ve got it bad, Sam.”

He looks up then and flushes as he asks “What? Got what bad?”

“Baby fever” she grins. “I asked how long you were home for and you said _Yeah, I  would_.”

“Would what? Have one of your own?” his sister teases him.

Sam just shrugs saying “Probably, yeah. When the time’s right. No rush.”

Jess deflates a little.

“It’s no fun teasing you when you won’t argue back” she complains.  “Derek’s made you soft, dude.”

Sam grins at her, and says ‘Soft, huh? Not too soft for _this_ ” and he grabs her and carries her struggling and squealing over to the couch, where he tickles her mercilessly until she begs for mercy.

They’re both breathless and laughing on the couch, and he looks at his sister, happy and settled and asks ”What’s it like, though? Having a baby?”

She answers instantly.

“Terrifying. Fantastic. The best and the worst thing ever. Why do you ask?”

He nudges her shoulder gently with his own.

“Just curious. Ever regret it?”

“Never. Not with the APB, not with the asshole ex, not with squeezing a whole person out and feeling like I was tearing in half” she says without hesitation.

Sam winces at that last one and Jess laughs.

She threw that in on purpose.  

“Seriously though?  Derek was a life saver. And now Stiles is. You’ve married into a hell of a pack.”

Just then they hear the baby starting to grizzle, and Jess smiles indulgently as she tells Sam “Go on then, go and get your nephew so you can get all dewy eyed over him.”

“Jerk” he mutters good naturedly.

“Nerd” she throws back, in their time honored tradition.

 

* * *

 

 

Three months isn’t as long as it sounds.

The first weeks are spent making up for lost time, staying up all night in a tangle of limbs, lazing in bed during the day, reveling in the closeness of each other.

When his week off is over, Derek’s still busy delivering babies, sometimes two and three a day at this time of year.

He has one memorable night where he works 24 hours straight, going between two deliveries, strong-arming  both alphas out of the delivery rooms, and  somehow managing to deliver wolf twins and a single girl successfully.

He goes home from that delivery dead on his feet, and sleeps for sixteen hours. He’s oddly touched when he rouses briefly to find Sam massaging his feet in the middle of the night. Sam gives him a soft smile, and Derek drifts back to sleep thinking how lucky he is.

Before they know it, six weeks have passed.

Sam’s kept his promise, and every day when Derek texts him to say he’s on his way home, he arrives to find Sam naked and waiting for him.

Sometimes it’s in the bed.

Sometimes it’s in the shower.

Sometimes it’s lying with his stomach pressed flat against the dining table, legs spread temptingly.

He thinks he could get used to it.

And of course, Sam has a heat coming up in three weeks, so there’s that to look forwards to.

He mentions it to Sam one evening in passing.

“I need to get my shot this week, before your heat” he says offhandedly.

Sam hums. “You should” he agrees, and Derek feels slightly deflated by the speed of Sam’s agreement.

He thought maybe, maybe, Sam might like to try for a baby.

His disappointment’s short lived though, when Sam adds “But make this the last one, yeah?”

Sam continues “I need to finish up this contract, and there are a couple of shoots I can’t get out of, but then? I think I’m done. I’m ready to retire and have babies, Derek.”

“Yeah?” Derek asks, trying not to show his excitement.

 

Sam turns to face him fully, and tells him “Blame Lila and Andrew. They’re too damn cute, and now I want one. So next heat, we can try. If you want?”

Derek pulls him closer for a kiss, saying “You always ask that, you know. And I always want.  And I definitely want this.”

And he feels like he could cry with happiness, because Sam wants to have a baby with him.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam’s heat is exhausting, and messy, and fantastic, and Derek actually manages to pull a muscle in his thigh as he tries to keep up with Sam’s demands of “Harder, dammit, harder’ as he fucks him against a wall. It heals quickly enough, but Sam whines and bitches for the whole ten minutes that he remains without a dick in him. 

Derek sticks to flat surfaces for the rest of that day, and wonders how he ever thought an alpha had any say in what happens during a heat.

Other than that, it goes off without a hitch, and at the end of it they lie in the wreck of their bed panting and grinning at each other.

“Next time we do this, we’ll be making a baby” Sam sighs happily.

 

Derek’s face breaks out in a sunrise smile as he says “Yeah. Yeah, we will”

 

 


	3. Tourist Derek.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange thing happens to Derek when he’s on vacation.   
> The normally serious, restrained, brooding alpha turns into a wide eyed child.  
> Sam eyes him doubtfully as he dons a colorful Hawaiian shirt and slings his camera around his neck.

 

The new year starts with Peter and Stiles finally getting married, and Derek sees Sam watching him as he holds Delilah during the service with a soft look on his face.

They haven’t mentioned that they’d like to try for a family to anyone, because neither of them wants to jinx their chances. But even though they don’t really talk much about it, Derek knows they’re both eager for Sam’s next heat and whatever it will bring.

Sam starts working again, but the first two weeks are just short overnight trips, and Derek’s distracted enough with helping Noah take care of Delilah while her Daddies honeymoon for a week that he doesn’t pine nearly as badly, although he does miss coming home to naked Sam every day.

He copes, because he’s so looking forwards to next week.

 

It’s taken some  wheeling and dealing on Derek’s part, but he’s managed to get two weeks off at the end of January.

Sam has a shoot in Bali for five days, and Derek’s going with him.

To say he’s excited is an understatement. He’s never been, and he can't wait.

He’s not looking forwards to the eighteen hour flight, he won’t lie, but he’s going to a tropical island in Indonesia with his husband the supermodel, so he really can’t complain.

Sam watches him pack, and then strolls across the room and tips his suitcase out onto the bed, ignoring his cries of outrage.

He quickly and efficiently repacks Derek’s suitcase with approximately a third of what he had in there before. He rolls his shirts and pants, ditches three pairs of shoes, throws his jacket out with a snort, and presents Derek with a suitcase that’s half empty.

“Room for souvenirs” he explains.

Derek tries to protest, but Sam tells him “Packing light’s my superpower. Trust me on this. You won’t need a suit. You won’t need those shoes. You definitely won’t need a jacket, dude. It’s _Bali_.”

“But I might need formal clothes” Derek argues weakly.

Sam grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him close, and then he walks him backwards until he’s against the wall, bracketed by Sam’s solid body. He leans forwards and whispers in his ear “You’re going to be staying in a hotel with me. You’ll be lucky if you get to wear _any_ clothes, baby guy.”

Derek loops his arms around Sam’s neck, and murmurs back “Is that so, pretty boy?”

“Count on it” Sam grins.

 

* * *

 

 

As they wait to board, Sam wanders over to the airport bookstore to grab something to read during the flight.  He goes immediately for the bodice rippers, but hesitates.

He quickly pulls out his phone and texts Peter.

**Annabel Anders?**

The reply comes quickly

_Mine ;)_

Dammit.

**Charlotte Chesterfield?**

_Yes_

Sam sighs and looks at the rack.

**Just send me a list OK?**

He can see that Peter’s typing, and when the list of seven more names comes through, he swears.

Derek’s come up behind him and he asks “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t read any of these damn books anymore, because Peter wrote all the good ones” he complains.

“So?” Derek says, sounding amused.

Sam picks one up and flips a few pages in, and starts reading aloud.

“Her eyes locked on the imposing alpha figure in front of her. The man was tall, certainly, taller than she was used to. And he had an unmistakable air of alpha arrogance about him, which was nothing she didn’t expect. But the scent of him, combined with the way his muscles filled out his greatcoat, took her completely by surprise. She found her eyes drawn down his muscled body to the impressive bulge in his trousers, and remembered what her mama had told her – that what was in a man’s trousers would thicken and grow when it was time for a mating. Almost against her will, she felt herself dampening in that most sacred spot. And the man hadn’t even been introduced to her yet.”

Derek snickers, and asks “So? What’s the problem?”

Sam  groans as he says “ _I’m hearing it in Peter’s voice_ ”

Derek barks out a laugh.

“It’s not funny! It’s just weird now, knowing that I was reading these and he was writing them and then going off to give a pregnant Stiles foot rubs in between!”

Derek brackets him from behind and pulls him close, and says quietly “What if _I_ read them to you?”

Sam shakes his head, saying “Nope. It’s completely ruined.”

And he has to settle for the latest Matthew Reilly thriller and really, it’s not the same.

 

* * *

 

 

The flight’s a nightmare of crying babies and turbulence, but Sam makes it better by producing earplugs and chewing gum, and they manage to sleep for some of the time.

When they get off the plane it’s hot and dirty, and there are large signs everywhere proclaiming that **_Drug Traffickers are subject to the Death Penalty_**. Derek’s tired and hungry, but with an ease borne of years of practice, Sam navigates them through customs and baggage claim, and hails them a taxi to get them to their hotel.

They bypass the more touristy parts of the island, instead heading to one of the more secluded resort areas. They book in, and Derek’s face is a picture of delight as he takes in the gorgeous hotel and the beautiful views spread before them.

“Oh my god, it’s beautiful here Sam” he says, eyes wide.

Sam grins, and says “Yeah, job’s got it’s perks, I won’t lie.”

They book into their suite, and as excited as Derek is to explore, he’s so tired he can’t think straight.

“Best idea for now? We should have a short nap, then stay awake today. Otherwise our body clock’s gonna be shot” Sam advises.

Derek doesn’t hear him – he lay down just for a minute to test the bed, and he’s passed out.

Sam sighs fondly, and spoons behind his alpha, settling in for his own nap.

He wakes six hours later, and Derek’s still snoring softly beside him and he doesn’t have the heart to wake him – low level sleep deprivation is part of Derek’s job.

He spends an hour gently stroking the back of Derek’s neck, and enjoying just watching him sleep. He hopes that Derek will have a good time here – some people find the crowds and the hawkers overwhelming, but Sam’s always enjoyed the bustling atmosphere.

Plus here, nobody knows him.

Derek stirs eventually, squinting up at Sam and grinning sleepily.

“Hey, baby guy” Sam croons. “Awake yet?”

“Guh” Derek manages, as he sits up.

Sam brings him a tray of cut tropical fruit and a bottle of water, and Derek takes them gratefully.

He moans with pleasure as he devours the sweet, juicy mango slices and chunks of fresh pineapple. Sam leans in and sucks the juice from his fingertips, winking as he does so.

Once Derek’s slightly more awake, he kisses Sam and suggests “shall we test the mattress? It seems a little soft.”

“Oh, definitely need to test it” Sam agrees, crawling up onto the bed next to him.

They don’t go exploring until the next day, after all.

 

* * *

 

 A strange thing happens to Derek when he’s on vacation.

The normally serious, restrained, brooding alpha turns into a wide eyed child.

Sam eyes him doubtfully as he dons a colorful Hawaiian shirt and slings his camera around his neck.

“Derek” he starts. “You know that you’re a target for pickpockets dressed like that, right? You may as well tape a sign to your forehead that says ‘ _rob me’_ and be done with it.”

Derek laughs, and tells him “I’m a white guy in an Asian country. Pretty sure they know I’m not from around here, Sam.”

Sam just goes with it with a sigh.

They end up in Kuta, the most crowded tourist trap there is. Every three steps, somebody steps in front of them and offers them “Massage? Taxi? Sarong?” and on one memorable occasion, “Lobster?”

Good are thrust into their faces with entreaties to buy, prices are shouted at them, and within ten minutes Derek is carrying an armful of cheap clothing and six pairs of “genuine” Raybans that only cost him three dollars each.

He’s in heaven.

Sam hustles him along the crowded street, amused in spite of himself.

Derek’s not even haggling, despite Sam telling him “Don’t ever pay full price, man.”

Derek shrugs, saying “I’m on holidays. Who wants to haggle?”

After they drop off their purchases at the hotel, they find a bar.

It’s full of Australians, all watching some kind of sporting event on the big screen TV, cheering loudly and taking a swig every time a goal’s scored. They’re a friendly bunch, and somehow Derek and Sam get swept along with them when they migrate to the next bar to watch the drag queens and do tequila shots.

Derek drinks more than Sam’s ever seen him drink, knocking back the wolfsbane laced beers with gusto, and by the time they reach the karaoke bar he’s lost all of his normal reserve, finishing the night with a rousing rendition of  _We Are The Champions._

He really does have an amazing baritone, even when he’s falling-down drunk.

Sam has to actually work the next morning, so he makes their excuses to their new friends, and drags a drunken Derek out of the bar to a chorus of “Onya mate!”         

When they get back to their hotel, he lays Derek out on the bed and goes to shower. When he comes back out, Derek’s asleep, clutching a wide brimmed straw hat that he’d bought tightly to his chest.

On impulse, he snaps a photo and sends it to Peter.

He gets an immediate reply.

_I see you’ve met Tourist Derek._

He texts back **wtf is Tourist Derek**

His phone pings

_When Derek goes overseas, he turns into a small child. He buys everything in sight and pays too much for it, drinks too much, dresses like a seventy year old man on a cruise ship, and takes every opportunity to eat weird foods._

**Jesus Peter, you could have warned me**

_Absolutely not. Nobody warned me when we went to London and he got us barred from the Tower of London for poking the Beefeaters._

And then

_Take lots of pictures for me, won’t you._

Sam grins. That he can do.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter’s right about the weird food, it turns out. 

If it’s on the breakfast buffet and it’s unidentifiable, Derek will eat it.

If it’s cooked over a charcoal brazier in the street and comes on a stick, Derek will eat it.

If it’s some kind of insect, Derek will eat it.

If it’s deep fried anything, Derek will eat it.

Even if it has eyeballs, Derek will eat it.

 

Sam’s fairly certain that it’s only Derek’s werewolf metabolism that’s keeping him from ending up in the hospital with food poisoning.

He comes back from his morning’s shoot on the second day,and when he goes up to their hotel room it absolutely _reeks_ of raw sewage. Sam gags at the stench and looks around for the problem, and finds it immediately.

Derek’s sitting at the table surrounded by spiky fruits the size of footballs, smiling broadly as he scoops the flesh out of them.

He's discovered  the Durian.

“Derek!” Sam hisses.

“Hey Sam, come try this. It’s incredible! Smells so bad, tastes so good” he says, as he eats another spoonful of the soft creamy fruit.

“I’ve tried it. It’s durian. How the hell did you get it in the hotel? It’s banned from indoor areas here!”

Derek shrugs. “I just carried them up, and nobody stopped me.”

Sam looks at his six foot, broad shouldered, muscular husband,  and he thinks of the tiny Indonesian girl who mans the front desk, and sighs. Of course they didn’t stop him.

“Is it really banned?” Derek asks, interested.

“It really is” Sam confirms. 

Derek wrinkles his nose. “It does smell kind of rank in here.”

He looks down at the remains of his feast, and discovers that he’s managed to eat most of the flesh, and all that’s left are the skins, that smell like rotting seaweed.

“Balcony?” he asks Sam, eyebrows raised.

“Balcony” Sam confirms, as he opens the sliding door and helps Derek move the offending refuse outside.

They turn the aircon and the fans on full blast, and leave the main door of their suite open, and gradually the rotting miasma clears.

Sam starts to laugh, saying “I can’t believe you, man. Why would you even bring that in here?”

Derek defends himself, saying “I’m on holiday. Gotta try everything, right?”

“God I love you, you know that?” Sam responds, as he pulls his husband in for a hug.

Derek goes pale, and clutches his stomach.

Sam lets him go and looks at him, concerned, but then Derek releases an almighty belch, and breathes a sigh of relief.

“Five might be too many of those things at once” he admits, rubbing his stomach gingerly and going to lie down until his stomach settles.

 

Sam texts Peter a photo of the remains of the fruit later.

**Tourist Derek brought five Durian back to the suite, and ate them all**

_How did he get them into the rooms? And how ill is he?_

**He said nobody stopped him. And he has a belly ache**

_You should know that this has made my day._

**I’m glad you’re entertained, Peter.**

_So entertained. You have no idea._

 

Derek’s recovered enough that night to insist on going to the Bubba Gump restaurant for dinner, where he happily poses on the park bench out front from the movie, complete with Forrest’s suitcase and shoes.

Once they’re inside, he persists in flipping the sign on his table that makes the waiters “Run, Forrest” and “Stop” and he doesn’t flinch at the overpriced food and drinks, but instead happily pays for two truly awful  souvenir t shirts.

Sam shakes his head, and sends photos to Peter, who replies

_I told you. Nothing is too tacky for Tourist Derek_

* * *

 

 

Derek comes with Sam to the shoot the next day, because it’s a fantastic beach they’re working at, and also Sam doesn’t quite trust him enough to leave him unsupervised.

He spends six hours posing wearing designer sunglasses, while Derek happily watches him and mooches around the beach and raids the snack supply on set.

Nobody stops him, because they’re all thrilled to meet the man who finally got Sam to settle down.

By the time they’re ready to wind up though, Derek’s starting to get antsy, so Sam suggests they go for a swim.

The pair of them race into the ocean at breakneck speed, whooping and hollering as they plunge into the waves. They fool around splashing each other for a while, and then Derek dives under the waves and between Sam’s legs and surfaces with his husband perched triumphantly on his shoulders, grinning broadly.

“Damn I love wolf strength” Sam sighs happily as Derek carries him around effortlessly.

Derek cocks his head a little then, and tells Sam “They’re calling you, babe.”

When Sam turns back towards the shore, he can see that the director is indeed calling and waving wildly to get his attention.

Derek strides easily through the waves with Sam still seated on him, tugging his hair and crying “Mush, Derek! Mush!”

Derek just laughs, and walks up into the shallows, standing calf deep in the waves where the man who was waving can talk to them.

“What’s up? I thought we were done?” Sam says.

He hopes like hell they were done, or he’ll get lambasted for playing in the waves and ruining his makeup.

But the director doesn’t look unhappy, in fact he’s positively vibrating with excitement.

“Sam, how would your husband like to be in a couple of shots?” he asks hopefully.

Sam replies “He wouldn’t” at the same time Derek says “What do I have to do?”

Derek bends down closer to the ground before lifting Sam off his shoulders like he weighs nothing.

“You don’t have to do it, Der” Sam tells him.

Derek just says “Hey, I’m on holiday. Gotta try everything, right?” and kisses Sam thoroughly, earning them a wolf whistle.

It turns out all they want him to do is exactly what they were already doing – they want him to lift Sam onto is shoulders and walk around in the waves – but they want him to do it while they’re both wearing thousand dollar sunglasses.

Derek tells them he’ll do it if he can keep the glasses, and when he turns around and they realise that he and Sam have matching back tattoos, the director nearly has a stroke with excitement, and happily agrees to anything.

The director tells them not to worry about the camera, just to keep doing what they were doing, so they dive into the waves and swim a little, and then Derek hoists Sam up, and Sam laughs with his head thrown back, and Derek walks along in the waist deep water with Sam’s legs wrapped around him, and he might sneak a few kisses to the inside of his leg while he’s there.

They work their way into the shallows, and the director asks if they can walk out again to the deep, and he gets a spectacular shot of the back of them, all tanned skin and muscle and matching tattoos.

Derek’s having a blast, and so is Sam. He’s done the serious shots earlier, and he knows if this doesn’t work out they’ll just chalk it up as a failed experiment.

Sam leans down as close to Derek’s ear as he can and whispers ”ToId you. Stupid amounts of money for looking pretty.”

Derek hums in agreement. “What’s this shoot worth, then?”

“Nine a day” Sam tells him, grinning.

“Huh. Nine hundred’s pretty good money for a day at the beach” he muses.

Sam smacks him gently around the back of the head, saying “You think you’re funny, Derek.”

“What?” asks Derek, genuinely confused.

“Nine hundred a day” Sam snorts.

“That’s what you said, isn’t it?”

Sam slides himself down off Derek’s shoulders, and turns him round to face him, looping his arms around his neck as he looks at him. He lifts his sunnies and props them on his forehead, and does the same to Derek’s so that he can see his face.

 

It’s a gorgeous shot of the two of them, and the photographer nails it from the shoreline. It looks for all the world like they’re about to share a declaration of love, and it ends up in the campaign, and people everywhere speculate on what was said to cause the dark haired man to smile so broadly.

What was said was this.

“It’s nine _thousand_ , you idiot.”

Derek’s face splits into a grin, and he picks Sam up and swings him around over his head, laughing.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard” he laughs, before throwing Sam backwards into the water.

Sam surfaces, and he’s laughing as well, saying “I know, OK. Trust me, I know.”

They swim lazily to shore, and Sam asks the photographer “Got what you need?”

She nods happily, and Sam informs the director that if he wants Sam to stay any longer they’ll have to pay him extra.

Derek snorts at that.

They’re free to go, and they head back to the hotel to shower and eat and relax and snicker over the fact that Sam just got paid nine thousand dollars a day to wear sunglasses on a beach in Bali.

Sam tells Derek that he’s going to show him the _real_ Bali, and he takes him to a tiny hole in the wall restaurant where they barely speak any English, and they order by pointing at the menu, and Derek is introduced to _actual_ Indonesian food. He makes obscene noises as he samples dish after dish, and Sam smiles happily at the sight of Derek surrounded by empty bowls with a satisfied expression on his face.

 

* * *

 

The last two days race by.

Derek  goes out unsupervised with his Australian bar friends one night and doesn’t come home till 3 am, and he drunkenly confesses to Sam that if it wasn’t for the fact he’s a werewolf, he would have ended up with a tattoo on his butt, but the place they went to didn’t have a blowtorch.

Sam goes to work in the morning, but Derek doesn’t go with him because he has the hangover from hell.  He wanders down to the main shopping area when he can move, and has a two hour massage. He thinks it was a bargain at fifty bucks, and Sam doesn’t have the heart to tell him he should have paid twenty at the most.

He’s signed up to go on a guided tour the next day, and by the time Sam returns to the hotel in the afternoon, Derek’s back, and he’s bought literal piles of souvenirs.

“Derek, why do we need forty bottle openers?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

“It was forty for ten dollars!” Derek defends his purchase.

“I can give one to all the staff at work!”

Sam confiscates Derek’s wallet before he can make good on his threat to buy everyone they know a Bintang Beer singlet.

They do go out and buy some cute silk baby dresses for Delilah though, because those are adorable.

And then they have a few hours to kill, and the hotel has air conditioning, and the bed’s really comfy, and it wouldn’t be a holiday without an afternoon delight at least once.

 

When it’s time to pack, Derek realises the wisdom of leaving all that space in his suitcase as he struggles to wedge his last few trinkets in.

He may use a little of his Were strength to get the lid to stay down while Sam looks on, amused.

“You’re a completely different person on holiday, you do realise that right?” Sam observes.

“Yep” Derek agrees happily. “Nobody knows me, nobody cares what I do, and I’ll never see these people again, so I totally relax.”

“It’s kinda cool” Sam tells him “And entertaining as all hell.”

“I’m glad you think so, because you’re going to have to put up with it now, since you married me.”

“I think I’ll cope” Sam tells him, as they load up their cases and head downstairs.

 

* * *

 

 

A month later, Derek gets a cheque for four thousand dollars from Sam’s modelling agency for taking part in the shoot. When he asks Sam about it, he confesses that he made them pay Derek.

“Hey, they used a lot of those shots of you, and it made the campaign” he explains.

“And besides, that four grand means I can retire half a day earlier” he says with a wink.

“You could, or I could buy sixteen thousand bottle openers in Bali, and start a souvenir shop” Derek says, straight faced.

Sam laughs at that, long and deep and beautiful, and Derek revels in the sound.

He thinks he could happily listen to that laugh for the rest of his life.

And he could happily kiss the lips that are seeking his out for the rest of his life, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, full disclosure - Derek in this chapter is based TOTALLY on my own dear Mr Bunny.  
> He can go twelve months without setting foot in a store, but take him on holidays, and he's six, and can't wait to buy anything shiny.  
> When we were in Singapore, a country where in Chinatown you can get a longneck of Heineken for six bucks, he insisted on going to the Hard Rock cafe and paying seventeen dollars for a beer one third that size. And then he paid over forty bucks for a t shirt.  
> The forty bottle opener key rings for ten bucks were a real thing - I managed to talk him out of them, so he bought ten t shirts instead, because they were three dollars.   
> Also, he wears a really dorky hat and bright shirts and his camera around his neck. The kids call him Tourist Dad.   
> I've told him that if he ever comes out in socks and sandals, I'm leaving him. There are some lines you just don't cross.
> 
> P.S. The durian fruit is a real thing. It smells like shit and rotting garbage, but inside it's like a creamy custard.


	4. Little Bean Hale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are babies in the air.  
> And babies in bellies.

Technically, an omega _can_ get pregnant outside of heat, but it’s a rarity.

So of course it happens to Peter and Stiles, halfway between Stiles’ scheduled heats.

“We were planning to try again next heat anyway, it’s just a little earlier than we thought” Peter tells them when he makes the announcement to the pack.

“Three months, thanks to Peter’s super sperm” Stiles corrects, but he looks quietly pleased and his hand cradles round his belly protectively.

Derek congratulates them, and he’s happy for them.

And only a tiny bit jealous.

The rest of the pack are thrilled – Delilah’s managed to bring them closer than Derek ever could, just because they all want to spend time together so they can be with her, and the thought of another cute baby to play with is met with ooohs and aaahs.

“Favorite uncle this time” Scott mutters, and Derek just grins, and tells him “Sure. Why not.”

“What tipped you off?” Sam asks Stiles.

“I mean you wouldn’t have been expecting it, surely?”

Stiles explains “Well, like Peter said, we wanted to try next heat, and it seemed reasonable to get checked out first. And Phil did a pregnancy test as routine, and it turns out that Bean was already in there. Has been since April.”

Peter comes up behind Stiles and puts his hands on top of his belly, saying “Bean? Not Bumpty this time?”

Stiles looks absolutely scandalized. “Peter! Bumpty was Lila’s name, you can’t just reuse it!”

Peter looks suitably chastened for about three seconds, but he can’t help smiling smugly.

“Anyway, all going well, we’re looking at a Christmas baby” Stiles beams.

“So, October or November then” Derek teases.

Stiles flips him the bird, but he’s laughing.

“Not this time. I refuse to go through all that drama again. This is going to be the most relaxed pregnancy ever” he announces confidently.

 Nobody dares disagree with him.

 

* * *

 

 

As they drive home, Derek glances over and sees Sam looking pensive.

“Hey pretty boy, what’s up?”

Sam flicks his eyes up and then looks away, muttering “Nothing.”

Derek pulls over and parks the car, saying “Spill it.”

Sam sighs.

“It’s just, what if this whole thing’s not as easy as we think? What it I can’t get pregnant? I never even thought to get Phil to check me out, y’know?”

He bites at his thumbnail.

Derek takes his hand and smooths his fingers over the knuckles.

“So, we go see him tomorrow” he says simply.

“I know a guy who works there, I can get you an appointment.”

Sam smiles weakly at him.

Derek can see the wheels turning, but he lets it go for now.  He can’t see any reason why there would be problems, but he also spends a good chunk of his life with omegas and their fertility, so he knows better than to offer useless platitudes. The best thing is for Sam to get checked out, and then he’ll be reassured.

He sends a quick text to Phil that night, and the next morning they get up early so Sam can see his uncle before the clinic opens.

As they drive over, Sam says “Hey, I do realise this is overreacting, you know.  I’ll just feel better getting the all clear right from the start.”

Derek squeezes his hand, and tells him “I think it’s called being an adult, babe.”

“Adulting sucks, in that case” Sam mutters.

The pull into the car park and make their way inside where Phil’s waiting.

He takes some blood, checks Sam’s  vitals, and gives him a quick but embarrassing internal, before stating “Barring anything in the blood test, I can’t see any reason you won’t be able to start a family any time you want.”

Sam beams happily, pulling him in for a hug and saying “Thanks, Uncle Phil.”

“If you want to wait, we can get the bloodwork back inside half an hour, just to be certain” he offers.

Derek shrugs. “Hey, I’m happy to hang out. And you can tell me exactly how Peter and Stiles reacted to their news.’  
“Happy tears from one, swearing from the other“  he tells them, grinning.

“Stiles cried? Really?” Sam asks.

“No, _Peter_ cried like a damned baby and couldn’t stop smiling, and Stiles swore a blue streak. He called Peter the best names.  I think it was the shock, because he wasn’t expecting it, and last time was such a shitshow. Of course, it would be a lot easier on him if he was a wolf.  Human/were pregnancies always have their own extra problems.”

“Don’t I know it” sighs Derek.

“Hey husband of mine, care to share?” Sam interrupts.

Derek gives him his enquiring eyebrow, and Sam clarifies.

“About the problems in were/human pregnancies _that you’ve failed to mention to me before now_?”

Phil looks between them and says “Derek, please tell me that you’ve had a conversation with your husband, _my nephew,_ about the fact that he’s probably going to have werewolf babies, and the problems he may have, and please tell me you’ve talked to him about his options?”

And normally he’s pretty laid back when it comes to Derek, but his tone is cold, and he looks supremely pissed off.

“Those problems are rare, Phil. I didn’t want to mention them and worry Sam. And no, I haven’t talked to him about his options, because that’s a whole other discussion and I don’t want to pressure him into anything.”

“Wow, this is completely reassuring and not worrying at all” Sam deadpans.

Derek turns to him, and tells him “Long story short, there’s a higher risk of premature labor, APD, and miscarriage in mixed partners, even when they’re mates. All those risks disappear if both parents are wolves.”

Sam stares for a moment, and says slowly “Soooo, hypothetically, I’d have an easier time of it if I was a were?”

“Hypothetically” Phil confirms.

Sam’s expression brightens.

“Great. So you can take me home and bite me” he tells Derek with a grin.

He adds “If you want?”

Derek doesn’t immediately say “ _I want_ ” this time.

What he says is “Why don’t we wait for the blood tests, and if they’re OK, we’ll talk about it.”

It’s not the response Sam expects, and his ever present smile disappears as he says “Oh. OK. We’ll get the test results first.”

They wait in uncomfortable silence, and when the results come back and show that Sam’s perfectly healthy, they’re not as happy as they should be.

“For what it’s worth, statistically, the risk the bite offers is far lower than the risk for a mixed pregnancy” Phil tells them as they go to leave.

They drive home in silence.

 

* * *

 

 

When they get inside, Sam pulls Derek close for a hug.

“Firstly, I love you, baby guy” he whispers as he leans in close and scents his husband.

“And secondly, I should have no trouble getting pregnant. That’s good news, right?” he continues, as he kisses up the side of Derek’s neck.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is” Derek replies, as Sam’s hands rub gently up and down the back on his neck the way he loves.

“So, why so glum?” Sam asks.

Derek confesses “I don’t want you to think you’re being pushed into taking the bite for the sake of an easy pregnancy, that’s all.”

Sam puts his long fingers under Derek’s chin and lifts it so he’s looking into his eyes.

“Derek, I want the bite. I’ve wanted it for a while. I dropped a few hints, but you never asked, so I figured you just weren’t interested in turning me. And if you don’t want to, that’s cool, but just tell me either way, yeah?”

Derek has no clue what he’s talking about.

“What hints, Sam? What have I missed?”

Sam shakes his head. “Oh, just little things. Like the fact that I keep telling you how I love wolf strength? That I got your pack symbol tattooed on me? Tiny hints like that, man.”

Derek groans.

“Have I ever mentioned that I’m not good with hints?”

Sam snickers.

“Yeah, I’m kinda getting that impression. Let me lay it out for you, Derek. Turn me, and  then knock me up, baby guy.”

Derek hesitates.

“Sometimes, Sam, sometimes it doesn’t take. The bite could kill you. I don’t want to lose you.”

Sam says simply “What’s life without a little risk?” as he wraps his long arms around Derek and pulls him into a patented Sam Evans full body hug.

Derek scents him deeply, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders.

“I need to time to get used to the idea. I honestly never thought you’d want the bite.”

Sam continues to hug him tightly, while saying “Hey, no rush. It’s a big decision. But if you decide you’re willing to turn me, then I’m willing to take the chance, especially if it means less risk for our babies.”

“Babies?” Derek queries.

Sam shrugs. “Hey, twins run in the family. You never know.”

Derek hadn’t actually thought of that.

Sam laughs at the shocked look on his face, and holds him close while he processes the information.

Derek’s perfectly content to stay curled up in Sam’s arms, feeling safe and secure, and he can’t help but imagine how great those hugs of Sam’s would feel to a wolf cub.

And really, it’s not his choice to make.

It’s Sam’s.

He pulls back a little and asks “You know what? How’s your schedule? You’ll need some time to adjust after the bite, and I don’t want you flying anywhere any time soon.”

Sam picks him up and squeezes him hard in response.

“Do that after you’re turned and you’ll probably break my ribs” Derek observes, smiling.

Sam puts him down and kisses him tenderly, running his long fingers over Derek’s jawline.

“I’m working”

“For the next”

“Three weeks”

He tells Derek between kisses.

“But after that, I’m done.”

“Done done? Really? I thought you were working  longer than that?”

Sam shakes his head.

“Nope. There’s nothing worth my while without being away from home, so this next shoot’s my last job.”

“And then you can stay home like a good omega and make babies with me” Derek teases.

“Yeah, that’s my plan, dude. Little wolf babies.”

“It’s a good plan” Derek says decisively.

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes, it seems like a thing is just meant to happen.

Sam’s shoot winds up a full week early, so he’s home a week after the full moon.

If the bite takes, he has a few weeks to adjust before the next one. And then, two weeks after that, his heat’s due.

Everything’s lining up perfectly for them, which doesn’t stop Derek from second guessing himself as he waits at the airport to collect his husband.

Maybe the bite won't take, and he'll lose his Sam.

Maybe they should wait a while longer to try for a family.

Maybe he should try and change Sam’s mind.

Maybe he should just refuse.

He breathes deeply, trying to calm himself as he watches the arrivals gate for his husband.

And then Sam comes striding through the gate on those long legs of his, and he’s struck all over again by how damned attractive his husband is.

Sam sees him, and honest to god _runs_ across the carpeting towards him, arms wide. He scoops Derek up and hugs him hard, burying his face in the crook of his neck and sniffing deeply.

“Damn, I’ve missed you. And you smell so good.  Can’t wait to get you home and into bed” Sam sighs happily.

“Missed you too, babe” Derek replies, arms wrapped around Sam’s back. “You might need to put me down, though.”

Sam reluctantly lets him go, but he keeps a hand possessively on the small of Derek’s back as they go to collect his bags.

They make it out of there without Sam being waylaid by anyone, and once they’re in the car the beanie comes off and he runs his fingers through his hair, making a contented sound.

Derek watches as long fingers slide through the silken strands, and he’s mesmerized by the light playing on the chestnut locks.

“God, I love your hair” he says without thinking.

Sam laughs and tosses his head from side to side exaggeratedly, imitating a shampoo commercial.

“It’s pretty great” he agrees, and as Derek listens to his husband’s laugh and sees the twinkle in those hazel eyes, he knows that they’re not waiting, and he won’t try and change Sam’s mind, because his Sam wants this, and Derek can’t deny him anything.

Besides, Derek may have spent some time imagining what Sam will be like as a wolf.

Just thinking about it sends shivers down his spine.

 

* * *

 

 

Nobody knows exactly when Derek gives Sam the bite, because they simply disappear for a few days after Sam comes home, and that’s nothing unusual when he’s been away.

The other wolves only know when it’s taken because they can feel the new pack bond.

And Jess knows, because sometimes twins just know.

She calls Sam and says “Yo dawg, what’s going on? Are you ok? I feel weird.”

“Sorry sis, I don’t think you can call me dawg anymore.It might be an insult now.”

“What? Why? What did you do?”she asks, concerned.

“I asked Derek to turn me.” Sam tells her, and he sounds a little breathless.

“What?” is all she can say.

Derek takes the phone then.

“Hey, Jess. Sam asked for the bite. He didn’t want to tell anyone till after. He’s fine, he’s just still adjusting. Can we call you in a couple of days?”

“He’s definitely ok?” she confirms.

“He’s fantastic. But we need some time” Derek tells her.

“Of course Sam took the bite. I should have expected it, I guess, seeing as he’s disgustingly in love with you” she sighs.

“Call me when you’re ready. And Derek? I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks” he says, grinning as he disconnects the call and tosses the phone across the room.

“Now, where were we, before we were so rudely interrupted by my new wolf _answering his phone_?” he asks Sam, who’s splayed out naked on the bed beneath him.

“I had to answer it. I knew she’d know something was up. Twins, man” Sam defends easily, and stretches his neck out so that Derek can go back to marking him.

Because he can, now. And the marks don’t stay, but oh, how he’s enjoying leaving them all over his mate’s body.

Sam sighs contentedly under the attention, closing his eyes and letting himself fully experience the new sensations coursing through his body.

He revels in the cool air from the fan as it blows softly against his skin, and the smell of his alpha, and the feel of hands and teeth on his body.

This isn’t even sexual – it’s all about scenting and bonding and learning control.

Derek gave him the bite yesterday, and he slept soundly, and woke up in a different world.

It’s a world where he has fangs and claws, and his hazel eyes flash gold.

It’s a world that’s almost frightening in its sheer intensity, but  he’s adjusting, slowly. Derek’s right there with him, and if it all gets too much he puts his head on his alpha’s chest and listens to the sound of Derek’s heart beating strong and sure and steady, and it brings him back.

Derek’s spent the day touching him and holding him and praising him, and he’s completely sincere.

“I’ve never seen anybody take to the change so easily.  It’s amazing, pretty boy.”

“Pretty _wolf_ , you mean” Sam tells him, chuckling softly.

“Nope. My pretty boy, always.” Derek says, as he nips at his throat.

 

 


	5. Ch-ch-ch-Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam adjusts to being a wolf, and experiences his first full moon with the help of the pack.

 

After three days spent adjusting to the change, Sam nudges Derek awake, and says “Um, this probably sounds strange I know, but I really wanna see Peter and Delilah? It’s like a ….pull?’

Derek drags his eyes open, and looks fondly at Sam.

“Damn, you’re pretty. Come here and kiss me” he demands, and pulls Sam close.

Sam kisses him gladly, but then he pulls away.

“So, is this normal? To want to see your uncle?” he asks.

“You’re settling, and your wolf can sense the others in the pack. It’s probably time to go see them, if you’re feeling that way” Derek reassures him, and he calls Peter to tell him about Sam taking the bite.

Peter, of course, already knows.

“Congratulations, nephew. How’s your newest pack member?”

“So you felt it, then. I wondered if you had. Would you like us to come over and you can see for yourself?” Derek offers.

 “If you wanted to bring Sam over to see Lila, that would be great. She can feel there’s a new bond, but she’s too young to understand what’s going on, and she’s fussing. I don’t want Stiles stressing so early in his pregnancy, so if she sees you she might calm down.”

Derek raises his brow at Sam in a silent question, and Sam nods eagerly.

“Sure thing, we’ll be over soon. But Peter? Nobody else, just you and Stiles and Lila. Anything more will be overwhelming.”

“Thanks so much, Derek. I think if she sees that _Saaam_  is OK, she’ll feel better” he says, imitating the way Delilah draws Sam’s name out when she says it.

“Saaaaam is fine, I promise”  Derek laughs.

“Saaaaam is fantastic. And hungry” Sam says as Derek hangs up.

“Am I going to be this hungry all the time? Because man, I’m starving again.”

Derek goes to the fridge and pulls out a plate of cold chicken and hands it to Sam with an amused expression. Sam starts eating immediately, and he’s demolished half the bird before he’s satisfied.

“It’s your body trying to catch up after all the changes” Derek explains.

There have been definite changes to Sam’s body – a thickening of the muscles, a solidness that wasn’t there before.

He’s able to control his shift, mostly. He has to close his eyes and breathe through it, but he gets there.

They haven’t been to bed yet – he refuses until he has more control, and Derek reluctantly agrees with him. He wants them both to be able to enjoy themselves without watching for stray claws.

So for now, they scent, and cuddle, and talk about baby names, and Sam eats and eats and eats.

“Lucky I don’t have to watch my weight anymore” he jokes as he follows the chicken with a slab of cake.

Derek’s just looking at him with a soft smile.

“What?” Sam asks.

“Just imagining great big you, with a great big baby belly” Derek replies, still smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

When they get to Peter’s they can hear Delilah fussing even before the door opens.

She feels _something_ , a tug, a yearning, and she has no idea why. As she gets older she’ll learn to interpret her feelings better, but for now she just feels like something’s missing, and she’s not happy.

So she’s stamping her feet and shouting, and Peter’s trying to calm her so she doesn’t wake Stiles, who has hit the same wall of tiredness that he did last time he was pregnant.

Derek knocks softly, and they hear the sound of tiny feet running rapidly to the door, and a small voice calling “Daddy!  Dek and Saaaam!”

Peter opens the door and Delilah sneaks past his legs and runs out the door, to where Derek crouches waiting for her.

‘Hey, princess, miss me?”he says, smiling.

She ignores him completely and launches herself at Sam, holding her arms up eagerly.

“Saaaaam! Samsamsamsamsam!” she crows delightedly as he sweeps her up in his arms and swings her around.

She’s all smiles now that he’s here, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Sam carries her inside, tickling her belly and making her laugh, and leaving Derek staring after them openmouthed.

Peter follows Sam in, saying “Wolf suits you, Sam. Congratulations.”

Peter and Sam have hit it off incredibly well, especially after they spent a day comparing their holiday shots of Derek and laughing over his alter ego, Tourist Derek.

“Thanks, Peter. It’s a little weird, like I can feel you guys all in my head, but it’s good. I’m happy.”

Sam’s settled on the couch with Lila, and she’s grinning and scenting him deeply.

Suddenly her face breaks into a delighted smile, and she takes his face in her tiny palms and holds it in place, and then she closes her eyes and concentrates, and when she opens them they flash gold, and she growls as deeply as she can, before looking at him expectantly.

Sam’s instincts come to the fore, and he growls back, fangs dropping and eyes flashing.

Delilah claps, and growls again.

Sam does the same, and she gives a delighted squeal, proclaiming  “Saam!” loudly, and nuzzling up to him.

Peter chuckles, and Sam and Delilah both turn to look at him.

“She senses your wolf, Sam. Don’t you princess? Who’s daddy’s clever girl? Uncle Sam’s a wolf now, like Daddy and Derek and Lila” he coos at her.

She nods firmly.

“Saaam. Woof.”

She keeps scenting him, and nodding, and giving little growls, and then giggling when Sam growls back.

“I feel so rejected right now” Derek whispers to Peter. “Is this how Scott feels?”

Peter just laughs at his betrayed expression as Lila ignores him completely.

Once Delilah’s more settled, and she curls in happily against Peter’s chest and goes to sleep.

Cuddling up seems like a great idea to Sam, and he leans against Derek and closes his eyes, just for a few minutes.

And Derek? He’s had a big week. He leans back and relaxes when he feels Sam’s head on his shoulder.

When Stiles wanders out from his nap an hour later, the three of them are still asleep, and Peter’s watching them all with a tiny smile on his face.

“How’s Lila? Better?”Stiles asks quietly, even though he can see she’s sleeping peacefully, sprawled across Peter.

Peter moves her gently off his body and onto the couch so he can stand, and goes to give Stiles a hug and scent him.   
“Much happier now her wolf is calmer. It was just the new pack bond confusing her, that’s all.”

He rubs a hand over Stiles’ belly gently, and Stiles hums with contentment.

Sam twitches awake at the sound of voices, and his eyes flash just for a moment before he gathers himself.

He sees Stiles and gives him a lazy smile, saying “Hey. How’s Bean doing?”

“Pretty good, actually. I mean, I’m beyond exhausted, but that’s normal for me. What about you? I can’t believe you took the bite and didn’t tell anyone” Stiles says, looking slightly put out.

“Sorry man, it just felt…private.” Sam offers shyly.

“Anyway, we’ll get out of your hair, now that Lila’s settled. I think I need to take Derek home and put him to bed” Sam says, nudging at his Alpha.

“Thanks for coming over, it helped a lot” Peter tells him warmly.

Derek’s finally awake, and they take their leave soon afterwards.

Once they’re gone, Stiles picks up Delilah over Peter’s protests about carrying her, and deposits her in her own bed.

“We should go to bed too, while she’s napping” he suggests.

“But sweetheart, it’s early. I’m not tired yet”  Peter tells him.

Stiles tugs on Peter’s ear with his teeth, and tells him “Neither am I, but the baby’s making me _want_ you, Peter” with a mischievous grin.

Peter’s response is to kiss him breathless, and Stiles laughs delightedly when he scoops him up in his arms to carry him off to bed.

He does love this side effect of pregnancy.

 

* * *

 

Sam and Derek stay home and adjust over the following weeks, as much as possible.

Of course, Derek still has to go and be baby guy, and Sam ventures out to the market and to see Jess, but they keep it fairly low key. 

They still haven’t gone any further than making out and a little grinding, and Derek tells Sam to take as long as he needs, and he can wait until he’s ready.

And he means it too, but that doesn’t mean he’s not eager for the day Sam will tell him it’s time.

He has a lot of very long showers, most of them cold.

The full moon’s approaching, and Peter calls and suggests they spend it at his place as usual, if Sam’s comfortable with that.

Sam thinks it sounds fantastic – the thought of his pack supporting him soothes him in a way he didn’t know it would.

When the day of the full moon arrives, they go over late in the afternoon, and when they walk in the door they stop short.

The old couch is gone, and it’s been replaced by a giant sectional monstrosity that takes up a quarter of the room.  Derek just stares at it, before asking “What?”

Peter shrugs.

“There are so many of us now, and have you seen the size of your husband, Derek? I refuse to spend another full moon on the floor. This should fit us all nicely.”

And it will, too.

It looks like you could lay ten adults down comfortably, and wedge a small child or two in there as well. Even if one of the adults is six foot four.

Sam laughs, and says “Thanks, man. This is amazing. Not everyone gets how hard it is to find decent furniture when you’re my size.”

Which of course is exactly why Peter had it custom made.

They settle in for the evening, talking and laughing and getting comfortable, and  when the pull of the moon starts to make itself known, Sam starts to panic a little, but he finds himself surrounded by pack – Peter at his back, Derek laying across his front making soothing noises, Scott and Isaac bracketing his sides, and Stiles next to him with Delilah, who periodically reaches out and pats his leg with her chubby baby hands, as if she can sense his unease.

It all helps him stay in control a little better, and if Peter has to hold him down once or twice as he attempts to break away, and if Derek has to pin him down and flash red eyes at him to stop him losing control, nobody mentions it, because they’ve all been there.

He closes his eyes and lets the sounds and smells of pack surround him, and finds his anchor, which, surprisingly, is Delilah.

He thinks about her delighted smile, her soft voice when she coos “ _preeetty_ ” and strokes his hair for the hundredth time, her contented face as she sleeps, and it calms something deep inside him.

He makes it through the night, and the next morning when they make their way home, he pulls Derek close and sighs in relief,saying “I made it through the full moon, and I didn’t lose control Derek.”

“You were amazing, sweetheart” Derek tells him, a hint of pride in his tone.

 “So, now that I know I can stay in control, I was thinking we could take a nap, and then maybe we could take my new wolf body for a test drive?”

He adds “If you want?”

The hunger in Derek’s eyes is obvious as he replies “Are you sure we need a nap first?”

Sam runs his hands down Derek’s muscled back as he amends “After. We could nap after.”

It’s everything they both imagined it would be, and more.

And more.

And more.

Sam’s making up for his period of celibacy, and Derek’s right there with him.

They definitely need the nap afterwards, and Derek nearly cries when he gets the phone call to go into work.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you come back, just lying here naked, waiting for my husband to ravish me again” Sam tells him with a grin.

And he is, too.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Sam’s heat rolls around, he’s settled into his wolf nicely, and Derek’s happier than he’s ever been.

His gorgeous husband is somehow even more breathtaking now he has that hint of otherness to him, and Derek takes every chance to touch and scent him.

When his heat hits,they turn off their phones, lock the doors, and prepare for six days of fantastic sex.

The heat only lasts three.

Sam nudges Derek awake, and he rolls over onto his back, hand already stroking himself to prepare for what he thinks will be another round, when Sam’s hand stills his.

“No need, big guy. We’re done” Sam tells him, pink cheeked with excitement.

“Really? Do you think that means it’s taken? “ Derek asks excitedly.

Sam shrugs. “Without a test, we can’t know, but probably.”

He looks thoughtful then, saying “You know, it couldn’t hurt to make certain though, right? One for the road?”

“Anything you say, pretty boy. It’s your heat” Derek tells him, beaming widely.

“I say, get over here and wreck me” Sam replies, eyes bright with anticipation.

 

* * *

 

Phil tells them the next day that it’s too early for a test, they have to wait two weeks, and he knows it’s exciting, but did they really have to call him at 6 am?

They wait impatiently, and every day Derek presses kisses to Sam’s stomach, and Sam tells him to be patient, they’ll know soon enough.

Sam already knows, but he’s not telling Derek, not until he sees it in black and white.

But he knows, the same as he knows the sky is blue and Derek’s eyes are green.

He’s carrying  their child.


	6. Doubling up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's definitely pregnant. Derek's definitely thrilled.

 

Phil gives them the test results.

Derek just sits looking halfway between terrified and thrilled at the news that yes, he’s going to have a little Hale of his own in eight and a half months.

He keeps repeating “A baby, we’re having a baby, Sam”  with a smile as wide and bright as a sunrise.

Phil chuckles fondly, and tells Sam “Give him a minute, it takes some getting used to.”

He eyes Sam shrewdly as he says “You already knew though, didn’t you?”

Sam grins, and his smiles matches Derek’s.

“Not for certain, but I suspected… it was just a feeling.”

Phil nods, confirming “In a lot of pregnancies, the omega just ‘ _knows_ ’. Jess just knew as well.”

“Oh god, Jess is going to be over the moon when we tell her. Should we tell anyone yet, or should we wait? What’s normal?” Sam asks.

Phil hums thoughtfully.

“That’s for you and Derek to decide. Lots of people like to wait in case something goes wrong, and some people couldn’t keep it secret if their lives depended on it. It’s not something you have to decide yet, anyway.”

Sam takes Derek’s hand, and says “Hey, baby guy, what do you say? Secret squirrel or shout it from the rooftops?”

Derek turns his gaze to Sam, and there’s such tenderness there that Phil’s tempted to leave the room, feeling like he’s intruding on something intimate, something private.

Derek’s almost shy as he asks “For now, can it be just us? I want some time to have you and the baby all to myself. Is that selfish?”

Sam smiles softly, and replies “That sounds good. Let’s just keep it to ourselves while we can, yeah?”

Derek nods, and then he whispers “You’re pregnant, Sam”

Sam nods, grinning. “Gonna be a baby daddy, Derek.”

Phil does slip out of the office then, leaving the two of them sitting there lost in their own world.

They don’t even notice him leave.

 

* * *

 

 

When they get home from the clinic, Derek draws Sam in close and drapes his arms round his neck, holding him loosely as he stares at him intently.

Finally, he leans in so his head is resting on Sam’s shoulder, and says quietly “You’re amazing, did you know that?”

Sam puts one finger under Derek’s chin and tilts it upwards so he can kiss him softly.  “You too, baby guy” he says when he pulls away.

“No, I mean it” Derek insists. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Sam.  God, the last year and a half since I met you? I’ve never felt so alive, or so loved. You were willing to take the bite, and give up your career, and now you’re going to have a baby. How the hell did I get so lucky to find someone willing to do those things for me? I don’t deserve you. And I just want to be sure that you know how much I appreciate you, and that I love you, pretty boy.”

Sam stares for a moment, and then he gives Derek one of his sexy, lazy smiles, the one that had Derek half in love with him before he even knew his name.

“Derek Hale, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say so much at once in the whole time I’ve known you, did you know that?” he teases. 

His face is alight with happiness as he continues “before I met you,I didn’t date. I had no plans to marry – the whole thing’s too damned hard when you’re famous. But then you walked into me and spilled your coffee, and you were gorgeous, and damn, you smelled good, and I loved that you had no clue who I was, so I knew you liked me for me. And did I mention that you were gorgeous? Taking you for coffee was the best idea I ever had.”

He kisses Derek again before saying “And you’re still gorgeous, and you’re mine, and I love you too, baby guy.”

Derek lets out a shaky sigh, and holds onto Sam a little more tightly.

“I can’t believe it. We’re having a baby, Sam” he whispers, and maybe there’s a stray tear or two, but Sam doesn’t mention it, because he’s too busy blinking back tears of his own.

They look at each other for a moment, and then Sam’s breath hitches and he gives a watery sob as he finally gives into the rush of emotions.

“Not cool man, making the pregnant omega cry” he sniffles, but he’s smiling as he speaks.

“Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you knew how I felt” says Derek through his own tears.

“I’m blaming this on hormones. What’s your excuse?” Sam laughs through his tears.

“Fell in love. Made me soft” Derek offers with a shrug.

He adds “Totally worth it.”

They’ve both stopped crying now, and Sam pulls Derek into a headlock and says “Soft, huh? I think I know how I can fix that. Come to bed?”

And Derek groans at the terrible joke, but he lets Sam drag him into the bedroom, and they spend the rest of the day there, and some of that time is Sam riding Derek hard and fast, but a lot of it is both of them running their hands over Sam’s flat abs, cooing over the tiny wolf that they know is growing there.

 

* * *

 

The full moon’s the next night, and Derek begs off spending it with pack, simply because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to resist telling them, and he’s not quite ready to share, not yet. 

They spend the night at home, and Sam stays in control easily, and they pass the time making love slowly, with the windows thrown wide so that their bed is bathed in the moonlight, and they revel in it.

They hold out for two weeks more before they tell Jess, and even then it’s only because Sam slips and calls Derek “Daddy” and it’s either share the news, or put up with her teasing them about their kinky lifestyle.

“I knew it!” she crows triumphantly. “Stiles owes me twenty bucks!”

“Wait, how?”Sam asks, suspicious. “Did Phil tell you?”

She laughs, and says “Relax, bro. I just knew something was up, same as when you took the bite.”

“Also,Derek keeps looking at your belly, and you keep touching it and sighing” she adds, grinning.

Sam and Derek look at each other, sheepish.

“Do you think everyone’s noticed?” Derek asks.

Jess shakes her head.

“Honestly? It was mainly because of the twin thing. Stiles has no clue, he bet against me, can you believe it? He said he’s sure he would have noticed.”

Sam grins, and then he draws his sister into a bear hug. She whispers “Congratulations, bro” as she hugs him back.

“Come here, Derek” she demands, making grabby hands at him once Sam releases her from his clutches, and she wraps herself around her brother in law and hugs him too.

She pulls back, looks Derek up and down, and sighs “Nope. Still don’t see it, sorry. There’s nothing attractive about you at all. You’re just lucky my brother has no taste.”

He laughs, saying “Sam’s definitely the pretty one. It’s the hair.”

Sam just tosses his head dramatically in response.

Before they leave, Jess assures them that she’ll keep their secret, and she reminds Sam that if there’s anything he needs to know, he can call her.

“Your body’s probably going to start doing weird shit any day now, so if you need me, call me” she says firmly.

”I will, but so far it’s been plain sailing” he assures her.

 

* * *

 

 

It continues to be plain sailing for another three weeks, and they keep their news quiet, and Derek spends far too much time stroking Sam’s stomach, looking for any sign that there’s life growing in there.

Sam humors him good-naturedly, as Derek asks again “Are you sure that’s not a bump? I think it’s a baby bump.”

“It’s a lunch bump, Derek. I ate three pizzas” Sam laughs.

Between his new werewolf metabolism and the baby hungries, as he calls them, Sam’s become an eating machine.

Derek looks on in awe as he works his way through half a loaf of bread made into grilled cheese sandwiches in a single sitting, and that’s only first breakfast.

Second breakfast, about an hour later, is normally something more substantial, like steak.

Sam feels great, with not a hint of morning sickness. He does crave Derek’s touch more than before, and he’s desperate for sex, but Derek helps him with both of those things gladly.

Aside from a little lightheadedness, which Sam ignores as just being one of those things, it’s perfect.

Until it isn’t.

During Sam’s seventh week of pregnancy, he gets up just like every other day, stands in the hot shower and runs his hand over his still flat belly just like every other day, and drops like a stone as he loses consciousness.

He goes down with a clatter and a crash, and luckily Derek’s home. He hears the noise from the kitchen and comes running.

He finds Sam unconscious under the still running water, and he can see a cut on his forehead that hasn’t quite healed yet from where he hit the tiles.

“Sam! Sam!“

He turns off the water and cradles Sam in his arms, shaking him softly as he tries to rouse him.

Sam moans, and Derek breathes again.

He cracks one eye, puts his hand up to the cut on his head, and asks “What happened? Did I fall?”

“You passed out, babe. Are you feeling OK?” Derek asks, concerned.

Sam sits up, and goes pale.

“I think you’d better call Phil” he says quietly, and Derek’s never dialed a number so fast in his life.

Sam remains on the floor of the shower with a blanket over him, simply because every time he tries to move another wave of dizziness overtakes him.

Phil’s there within ten minutes, and he takes Sam’s vital signs before helping Derek move him to the bed.

He turns to them and tells them “Sam’s blood pressure’s incredibly low, and I don’t know why. I want to admit him while I run more tests.”

Derek and Sam both nod, and Derek asks the question that neither of them want to ask.

“The baby, Phil?”

“As far as I can tell, the baby’s fine. There’s no bleeding, and no sign of miscarriage. But there’s something going on, and we need to find out what.”

 

* * *

 

 

Phil puts his foot down and flat out refuses to let Derek drive Sam to the hospital, insisting on an ambulance.

And then there are tests, and more tests, and more tests, until Sam feels like if one more person pokes and prods at him he’ll go crazy.

It feels like it goes on for weeks, but I fact it’s only half a day.

Derek, true to form, is finding ways to blame himself for something that hasn’t happened yet.

“If anything happens to you or the baby, I’ll never forgive myself. Maybe it was too soon after the bite. God, how could I be so stupid? Of course you needed more time. I’m so sorry, Sam.”  

Sam rolls over in his bed, and tells him “”Derek, the baby’s fine. I’m fine – I just passed out. I’m sure it’s nothing. Don’t panic, Phil’s taking care of me.”

He pats his flat stomach, and says “Now get over here, I haven’t had my kisses this morning” and he lays back so that Derek can access his belly and pepper it with tiny kisses, just like he’s done every day since he found out they were expecting.

That’s how Phil finds him when he enters the room, and he rolls his eyes good naturedly at the sight.

He doesn’t look the least bit worried, which Sam takes as a good sign.

“So what’s the deal, Uncle Phil?” he asks, as Derek reluctantly tears himself away from Sam’s abs.

‘Well, there are several things going on” Phil begins.

“First up, your blood pressure. Because of your size, it doesn’t take much of a drop for you to go down like a ton of bricks, as you discovered this morning. Secondly,your blood sugar was low because you hadn’t eaten. With your blood pressure so low because of your pregnancy, standing in a hot shower was probably the last straw.”

Sam’s brow furrows.

“Really? I passed out just because I was standing up?”

“Sam, you’re the size of a damned redwood tree. Here, I’ll show you.”

He gets Sam to sit on the side of the bed, and takes his blood pressure. It’s a little on the low side.

“Now, stand up slowly for me.”

Sam obliges, carefully standing to his full height with Derek there to hold him up. Phil tests again, and says “See?  You’ve dropped twenty points instantly. Because of your pregnancy, your body’s struggling to get blood to where it needs to be as it is. Add in the not eating, and of course you’re going to pass out. So first off, you’ll need to eat before you do anything else every morning.”

Sam sits down quickly as Derek laughs, relieved. “That won’t be a problem. He’s eating like a horse as it is. So is that all it is??”

“Not quite” Phil answers, and he's far too cheerful about this.

“Well what else is it, then?” Sam asks, interested.

Phil takes a deep breath as he tells them “Good thing you are such a big boy, Sam. You’re going to need the room. I’m fairly certain you’re carrying multiples.”

Now it’s Derek’s turn to go pale and feel a little faint.

“How many, Phil?” he demands.

“At least two, but we can’t be sure until we do a scan, and it’s too early for that. It might be more.”

“More? Really?” Sam says excitedly, leaning forwards to pull his husband in for a hug, and leaning back just as quickly when the sudden movement makes him dizzy.

Derek reaches out for him and clasps his hand, not sure how to feel about the news.

He’s glad it isn’t something life threatening, but more than one baby?

He looks at Sam, who’s beaming like he just won the lottery.

“You seem happy” he finally offers.

“Are you kidding? This is so great. I always loved being a twin. It’s like there’s someone who gets you better than anyone else in the world. I can’t wait for our babies to have that, Derek.”

And yeah, Derek didn’t think of it from that viewpoint.

And Sam did tell him that twins run in the family. It’s just…a lot.

He decides to focus on what’s most important right then and there.

“So Sam’s OK? I thought being a Were was meant to make this easier for him?” he asks Phil.

“Other than his blood pressure, Sam’s perfectly healthy, and the babies are too. As I say, he got up too fast and did too much, that’s all.”

He turns to Sam and says “I want you to stay home and rest this week.” He holds up his hand as Sam starts to protest, saying “Purely to let your body adjust a little, that’s all. I don’t want you overtaxing yourself, fainting, and cracking your head open, werewolf healing or not.”

His voice softens as he reminds Sam “I’m telling you this as your uncle, not your doctor. Take it slow, and look after yourself. I want this to go smoothly for you, Sam.”

Sam sighs, and nods.

“Fine. But how strict is the rest part of bed rest?” he asks, blushing slightly.

Phil rolls his eyes.

“Yes, you can still have sex. No, you can’t have sex hanging from the chandeliers. Use your common sense, and don’t overdo it.”

Derek’s still holding Sam’s hand, and he squeezes it softly.

“Twins, Sam. Twins.” he breathes. 

“Maybe more” Sam reminds him with a grin.

“It looks like Peter’s not the only one with the Hale Super sperm” he teases.

Derek looks horrified.

“Please, never mention my uncle and sperm in the same sentence again” he says as he shudders, causing Sam to burst out laughing.

“Besides, I blame that ‘ _one for the road_ ’ you insisted on“ Derek points out.

“Maybe” Sam agrees cheerfully.

He’s happier now he knows that the babies aren’t in danger, and that it’s just his blood pressure.

“So, how long will the fainting thing last?’ he asks, curious.

“There’s no way to know. Some people have it their entire pregnancy, some adjust. It’s not dangerous as such, just hellishly inconvenient.” Phil reassures him.

Sam shrugs.

“I’m growing people. There’s bound to be a bump in the road somewhere” he says philosophically.

Derek raises one eyebrow, saying “You’re possibly the calmest person I’ve ever met, you know that right? I mean, you’re not even thrown by the thought of twins.”

“Or triplets” Sam reminds him helpfully.

Derek puts up a hand and shakes his head.

‘Nope. I’m still getting my head around twins. Let me work up to the idea of more, OK?”

“Well, you have a week to do it, because we can do the scan at eight weeks, and we should get a better idea then’ Phil informs them.

And the he sends them home with an admonition to rest, and tells Derek he doesn’t want to see him at work for the next week, because right now his most important job is taking care of Sam.

* * *

 

Sam spends the next week being pampered by Derek, and loving it.

He’s brought first breakfast on a tray every morning,  and then Derek insists on rubbing his calves and his feet, because they’re starting to cramp  overnight.

After his massage, and after Derek rubs his belly and talks to the babies, he gets up and has a shower, under Derek’s watchful eye. They’ve put a chair in the shower for him, and they soon discover that it means Derek can sprawl in his lap and kiss him under the running water. It takes them an awfully long time to get clean, some days.

Then it’s time for second breakfast, and by then he’s ready for a nap.

He’s exhausted all the time, but he knows it’s normal.

He’s been reading Stile’s book, and while he laughs long and loud at some on the details in there, he’s also finding it incredibly helpful. He coos when he reads the dedication, and Derek just looks smug as he points out that its right there in print, he’s the favorite.

After lunch, there’s normally more time in bed, but this time it’s with Derek, and no sleep is had. He craves physical contact, and he’s desperate for Derek to be inside him. Derek’s more than happy to oblige.

His washboard abs are starting to soften a little, something Phil told them to expect, saying that with more than one baby, he’d start showing sooner. Derek’s delighted, running his hands over his stomach and grinning gleefully the day he notices the tiniest hint of a change.

Sam rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as well.

 

* * *

 

Their secret doesn’t stay a secret much longer, because when they’re waiting to see Phil the next week, the door to his office opens and Stiles comes storming out.

Stiles pushes through the door with a scowl, and Peter follows closely, saying “Listen sweetheart, I know it’s a lot, but we’ll manage, I promise. We’ll hire a nanny if you want to.  It’ll be fine.”

Derek looks at Stiles, and then does a double take.

When Stiles was pregnant with Delilah, at four months he had a small but visible belly. This time though? In the two weeks since Derek’s seen him, his stomach’s grown considerably, and if Derek didn’t know better he’d say he was at least six months.

He’s already wearing his _Fat as Fuck, Proud as Punch_ shirt, and it’s not exactly loose.

“Hey Stiles” Derek offers.

“Your uncle sucks” Stiles mutters.

Derek looks between the two and asks “Problem?”

“It’s fine, Stiles is just a little emotional” Peter replies smoothly, as Stiles throws himself on the sofa next to Sam with a huff.

Suddenly he turns at looks at Sam more closely, eyes narrowed.

“Wait, why are you guys even here? Are you….? You are, aren’t you?” he says, and just like that, he’s forgotten whatever was upsetting him.

Sam just nods, smiling widely, and Stiles high fives him.

“Oh my god, this is so exciting!” We’re having babies together!  I vote that once they’re born we make the daddies take them out at least twice a week so we get a break, oh god, I can just see it, Peter and Derek at the park with all the baby Hales, and they can take Andrew as well so Jess can join us” he babbles excitedly.

Peter doesn’t even seem surprised by the revelation, just hugging Derek and murmuring a heartfelt “Congratulations.”

“How the hell do you even know?” Derek asks, confused.

“Oh please, nephew. It’s obvious. You’re waiting on Phil.  Sam’s practically glowing. He’s gained at least ten pounds, and his hand’s constantly petting his belly” Peter observes, smiling smugly.

Sam chuckles, and says “Cat’s out of the bag, I guess. We were going to tell you guys in another couple of weeks, we just wanted to be sure everything was OK first.”

“That’s completely understandable with your first” Peter nods.

A thought strikes Derek.

“Wait, why are _you_ here?  Stiles isn’t due for another appointment for three weeks.”

Stiles mutters something to himself, and of course all three wolves hear it.

It sounds suspiciously like “ _goddam overachieving asshole_.”

Peter arches a brow at him, and says “It takes two to tango, sweetheart. This was as much you as it was me, remember.”

Stiles sags a little, saying “Yeah, yeah.”

Peter turns to Derek and Sam, and his smile widens.

“Actually, we have news of our own” he reveals.

“I don’t know why you’re so happy about this” Stiles grumbles.

“Because it’s wonderful, sweetheart. How can I not be happy?” Peter says, going over to where Stiles is sitting and rubbing a hand gently down his neck.

Stiles relaxes into the touch, and Peter asks softly “Now shall I tell them, or would you like to, my darling, gorgeous, clever husband, who’s giving me this wonderful gift?”

Stiles melts under the praise, and a tiny smile plays around his lips.

“Fiiine, I’ll tell them” he says, with an exaggerated sigh, but they all know him well enough to know that he’s not annoyed anymore, not really.

He turns to Derek and Sam and rolls his eyes as he reveals “ _Apparently_ it’s not enough that Peter can get me pregnant between heats. _Apparently_ he has to prove his supreme virility by getting me pregnant with _twins._ ”

“Twins” Derek echoes, stunned.

“Twins” Peter confirms proudly, and the satisfaction is rolling off him in waves as he looks at Stiles adoringly.

Sam starts to snicker, quietly at first, but then it evolves into a fit of laughter, loud and unrestrained.

Derek just looks at him.

“Hale Super Sperm” he manages when he can finally speak.

 At that, Derek joins in.

He laughs until the tears are running down his face as Peter and Stiles look on, confused.

“What’s going on? What am I missing? This isn’t funny!“ Stiles snaps.

“How do you think it feels knowing I’m going to have _two_ babies to deal with? Do you have _any idea_?”

That just sets them off again.

They try valiantly to get themselves under control, but it’s a losing battle.

Peter’s looks at the two of them speculatively, and he observes “Stiles, Sam’s a twin.”

“Yes, I do know that, thank you. What does that have to do with anything?” he demands.

Peter says simply “Genetics, Stiles. Think about it.”

Stiles’ eyes widen as he realises what Peter’s implying, and he says “Oh. Ohhhh. Really?”

Sam nods, his laughter finally tapering off.

“We’re not sure how many exactly, just that there’s more than one. We’re having the scan today.”

‘Good luck with that, that fucking ultrasound wand is evil” Stiles tells him sincerely.

Then he starts to snicker as well, saying “Fucking Hale Super Sperm. Your family should come with a warning.”

Peter adds “You know who I really feel sorry for? Phil.”

And that sets them all laughing again, until Sam has to lie down because it’s making him dizzy.

 

* * *

 

Stiles is right, thinks Sam as he squirms uncomfortably on the table and breathes deeply around the intrusion.

That damned wand _is_ evil.

Finally, Phil says “I think that’s the best picture we’ll get.”

“So, how many are there?” asks Derek.

Phil turns the screen to face them, and says “See for yourself.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True story folks, this was me with my daughter. Sitting down? Fine. Walking? Eh, not too bad. Standing in one spot? Go as white as a ghost and pass out. my blood pressure would drop twenty points as soon as I was upright. It sure made Christmas shopping at eight months pregnant interesting!


	7. Developments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They boys find out exactly how many babies are on the way.

 

Sam stares at the screen, and he can see moving grey shapes, but he has no idea what he’s looking at.

He peers a little more closely, and says hesitantly ”Is that…. _four?”_

It’s hard to tell – the picture’s not that clear, and all he can make out is some fuzzy blobs. It _seems_ like four.

 

Derek has a little more idea of what he’s looking at though, and he breathes out “Two. There are two.”

“There _are_ only two, right?” he turns to Phil for confirmation.

Phil nods, and helpfully translates the images.

“There’s one head, there’s the other. And see? That’s the heartbeats, here and here.”

 Sam starts nodding as he looks closer, saying “I see it now” and he sighs happily at the image.

Phil prints off the pictures for them, commenting “I can tell you now, these babies are going to take after their daddies. They’re already bigger than normal. You’ve got a couple of strong little wolves in there, Sam.”

He removes the ultrasound wand, much to Sam’s relief.

“I can’t believe you ever told anyone that that they wouldn’t feel that thing, Uncle Phil. No wonder Stiles got pissed at you” he says, wincing as the unforgiving metal slides out of him.

“And he’s never going to let me live it down, either” Phil sighs.

He becomes all business, then, donning his best professional manner.

“So congratulations, it’s definitely twins. Sam, you should have no problems carrying them, given your size and the fact you’re a Were, but still, take it easy, OK?  You’re due late February, but twins sometimes turn up early. Make sure you eat well, get some light exercise, and listen to your body. And call me for anything.”

Derek’s still staring at the picture in his hands, lost in his own thoughts.

Sam calls him saying “Earth to Derek? You OK there, Daddy?”

Derek’s head snaps up, and he smiles hesitantly. “Yeah, I’m, this is…yeah” he manages.

“Two. We can deal with two, right?” he asks Sam, who smiles softly at him and nods.

"We can deal with two" Sam reassures him with a kiss.

Derek turns to Phil and asks “So, if Sam feels up to it, can we go out?”

“ _If_ Sam feels up to it. Sam, how’s the dizziness?”

“It’s actually a lot better, as long as I’m moving around. If I stand in one spot I get a little light headed, but it’s definitely improving.”

Phil nods approvingly.

“Use your judgement, both of you. If you feel good enough to go out, there’s no reason for you to stay home.”

Derek takes Sam’s hand, and asks “How do you feel about going out and looking for a house? A big house?”

Sam’s smile is answer enough.

 

* * *

 

 

They make three stops on the way home from their appointment.

 

They go and see Jess, and tell her they’re having twins.

"Twins?" She shrieks.

"Twins"  Derek confirms.

She fist pumps and does a happy dance, and Derek’s puzzled by her glee until she explains “Statistically, if Sam’s having twins, that lowers my odds if I ever have another one. Twins would be a nightmare” she shudders.

“You’re a terrible sister. The worst.” Sam tells her, poking out his tongue.

“I’m the best sister, and you love me” she counters.

“True. Now give me my nephew” Sam demands, smiling as Andrew reaches for him, babbling happily.

 

* * *

 

 

Next they go and see Peter and Stiles, to find Stiles laying on the sofa with Peter rubbing his feet while Delilah puddles about nearby, building some sort of tower with her blocks and chatting to herself.

Delilah’s discovered her words, and it seems she’s going to take after her Papa as she chatters away almost ceaselessly. Peter doesn’t mind, telling her she’s a clever girl and encouraging her, and Stiles is thrilled that she’s moved onto small sentences.

She sees them arrive and goes to run over, but Peter calls her to him first, saying “Come to daddy for a moment, Princess.”

She obediently goes over, because she does anything her Daddy asks, and Peter whispers in her ear, a gleam in his eye.

She nods happily, saying “I ‘member, daddy” as her grin turns mischievous.

In that moment she looks so like Stiles, it takes Peter’s breath away.

He releases her and she runs across the room, reaching her arms up to Derek.

When Derek swings her up easily into his arms, she snuggles in and scents him, sighing happily as she takes comfort in his presence. It seems Derek’s back to being favorite, as she barely gives Sam a glance.

After a few moments cuddling, she draws back, and says clearly “ My Alpha, Derek”

Derek looks at her, surprised. “No more Dek?”

She shakes her head firmly, saying “Alpha De REK” and looking immensely pleased with herself.

Derek chuckles softly, holding Delilah close, and tells her “That’s right, sweetheart.”

Hearing her acknowledge him as her Alpha makes Derek melt a little inside, and he catches Peter’s eye and nods his thanks.

Peter nods in return. He knows pack is important, even at this young age.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, how many?” Stiles demands eagerly.

“Twins” Sam tells him, and Stiles holds out his hand to Peter, saying “Fifty bucks. Pay up.”

“Peter bet on triplets” he singsongs smugly.

Peter just rolls his eyes, saying “You do realise I’m just giving you your own money, right sweetheart?”

“It’s the principle” Stiles replies.

Sam’s looking at Stiles with a bemused expression, and finally he says “I have to ask, Stiles. What the _hell_ are you wearing?”

“Oh, this?” he indicates his shirt. “Peter had a bunch of these made last time I was pregnant, because the pregnancy wear that’s out there is bullshit. I mean, who the hell wants to wear a _lilac smock_?”

Peter hums in agreement, saying “He’s right, Sam. There’s nothing sadder than the pregnancy clothes available for male omegas. It’s like they’re designed to be as unflattering as possible. Stiles had resorted to dressing in layers of loose plaid before I had these made. He looked quite tragic.”

“Hey!” Stiles protests. “I wasn’t that bad! And it was still better than what those ladies tried to sell me.”

He drags his feet away from Peter’s lap and stands, making a noise of discomfort as he does.

“Come on, I’ll show you what I’m wearing for the next five months” he offers.

He leads Sam into the bedroom, where he lays all the shirts out on the bed.

Sam snickers loudly at “ _I took seriously what was poked at me in fun_ ” saying “Wow, that one definitely applies this time.”

He and Stiles share the same sense of humor, so it’s no surprise that he loves the shirts.

“If I can’t find anything I like when I need it, maybe I’ll get some of these made“ he muses.

‘I _guess_ it might be OK if it was you“ Stiles concedes, but Sam can sense that he’s  oddly reluctant.

“Stiles has a particular affection for these, and he doesn’t really like to share the designs. Sentimental reasons” Peter explains, somewhat cryptically.

“Oh, hey, I won’t do it if it’s your thing. I’m sure I can find something to wear, anyway” Sam hurries to say.

“Oh trust me, you won’t find anything decent” Stiles promises darkly.

Sam’s not convinced. After all, he has contacts in the fashion world.

He’s sure some of the top line designers have decent pregnancy wear.

Surely.

And he has months to find something, he’s not even really showing.

Plenty of time.

 

* * *

 

The third stop they make is at the station.

They agree that they won’t share their news with the rest of the pack until they hit the three month mark, but Derek desperately wants to tell Noah, and Sam agrees.

Derek has an unaccountable soft spot for Noah.

The man’s family, and he’s so smitten with Delilah, and they want him to hear their news before the others.

 

When they walk into his office, he takes one look at their faces and breaks into a grin, saying “Hey, look at you two. I’m guessing you’re here with good news?”

‘Doubly good news” Sam tells him with an easy smile. “We’re having twins, Noah. Wanna be their Grandpa?”

He looks stunned.

“Jesus Christ on a cracker, boys. _Twins_? “

“Twins.” Derek confirms, and wonders idly if he’s going to have to repeat the news to every single person they tell.

He doesn’t mind, really. Every time he repeats the word, it becomes a little more real.

“I’d love to be Grandpa” Noah tells them softly, and if Derek didn’t know better he’d say that he heard a hitch in the man’s voice, and he can smell the scent of unbridled happiness coming off the man.

“Have you told Stiles and Peter yet? Stiles will be over the moon to have someone to bitch through his pregnancy with” Noah observes.

Then he lets out a happy sigh and says “Between your two and Stiles' new baby, it’s gonna be a big year for this Grandpa, but I’m sure I can handle it” and Derek realises that Peter and Stiles haven’t told Noah their news yet, so he wisely says nothing.

He’d love to be a fly on the wall when they do, though.

 

* * *

 

 

When they arrive home, Sam pleads exhaustion, and tells Derek he needs to lie down for a little.

He strips and climbs under the covers, and encourages Derek to join him, and Derek begins to tell him exactly what he wants in a house.

“We need a big house, Sam. Like, big” Derek muses.

“Nah”says Sam. “Big’s not gonna cut it.”

Derek arches a brow.

“We need a pack house, baby guy. We need room for our babies, and Peter’s, and for Jess and Andrew, and room for full moon nights, and for everyone to come and stay at Christmas, and we need a house where our room is far, far away from anyone else's” Sam tells him, from where he’s laying across the bed with his eyes closed as Derek starts kissing down his neck.

“Mmm hmm” Derek agrees.

“But right now, before we talk about it anymore, you need to get in this bed with me properly,  and get your hands all over me. Hot sex first, house hunting later“ Sam decrees.

“If you want?” he adds, smiling.

Derek’s already stripping off his shirt as he says “Oh, you know I want.”

He climbs eagerly into bed with Sam and resumes kissing down the column of his throat, making quiet noises of pleasure as he does so. Sam stretches his head to the side to give him easier access, and soon enough the kisses are joined by small nips. Derek’s hands range over Sam’s chest and abs as he explores his body, stroking his muscles firmly in the way he knows Sam likes.

Suddenly Sam raises up and flips them over, and he starts kissing Derek hungrily.

He straddles Derek easily, and settles on top of him grinding their hips together. With his Were strength, he has no problem pinning Derek down, holding his hands  above his head as he takes his turn kissing and biting Derek’s throat.

“Turnabout’s fair play” he smirks, just before he starts biting gently at Derek’s nipple.

Derek’s back arches and he lets out a hiss between his teeth, but he can’t really go anywhere.

Sam teases him by grinding against him and sucking and biting at his collarbones, before rolling off to the side with a sigh.

Derek props himself up on his elbows, concerned, and asks “You OK?”

Sam nods. “Just a little dizzy. All the blood rushing away from my head”

He waggles his eyebrows at Derek before saying “Wanna see where it all went to?” and running his hand over his obvious erection.

Derek places a hand over Sam’s and starts stroking as well, humming.

“Yep, can see why that would make you dizzy” he teases.

“Maybe I can help with that. I’m practically a medical professional you know.”

Sam snorts, but he spreads his legs wider and simpers “Oh please, Hot Baby Guy, take care of me.”

Derek laughs, low and soft.

“You just lay there, and I’ll give you what you need” he promises.

He leans down and kisses Sam, and Sam grabs onto him and pulls their bodies closer. “Want you” he pants out when their mouths part, and Derek grins at the thought that this gorgeous man is his husband, and that he gets to have this, to do this.

“Wanna go slow, baby” he whispers to Sam, and he rearranges their bodies so that he’s pressed up against Sam’s back.

He can smell Sam’s slick, sweeter now with his pregnancy, and it's incredibly enticing. He presses Sam’s top leg forwards, and slides into him from behind.  Sam gives a small gasp before groaning out “Oh, yeah, just like that” as Derek presses forwards until  he’s fully sheathed.

Derek can feel the way Sam’s stretched around him, the hot flesh pulsing rhythmically, and when Sam presses his hips back in a silent plea, Derek starts moving slowly, savoring the sensation of Sam’s body giving way to his, making room for him.

They rock gently together, Sam sighing happily as Derek fills him, and Derek indulges himself a little, and runs the fingers of one hand through Sam’s hair as he ruts into him at a leisurely pace.

“You love my hair” Sam teases with a smile.

“Love all of you” Derek responds easily.

They rock against each other for a long time, both indulging themselves. Slowly the pace increases, and Sam presses his hips back with a little more urgency. Derek responds, speeding up his thrusts, and soon Sam is moaning for more, harder, and he’s clenching faster around Derek, a sign that he’s close. Derek shifts his hips a little, changes his angle, and drives forwards harder, and it’s enough that Sam comes suddenly, spurting all over the sheets. Derek feels Sam’s channel tightening around him, and with one more thrust he’s coming as well, making a choked off sound as he fills Sam’s body.

He doesn’t even bother pulling out, just lays there enjoying the feel of his husband’s body.

It was Sam who said he needed a nap, but it’s Derek who falls asleep first.

By about thirty seconds.

And when he wakes a little later, it’s to the feeling of Sam grinding back into him, coaxing him back to hardness, and this time he whispers to Derek “Take me on my back, yeah? Want to see your face.”

Derek does.

Discussions on their new house are postponed for another day.

 

* * *

 

 

The wonderful thing about modern technology is that Derek and Sam are able to do a lot of house hunting without ever going out their front door.

They scroll through real estate listings, decide what they’re looking for, and get an idea of prices in the areas they like.

After seeing what’s available, Derek’s shoulders start to slump.

“There’s nothing out there that’s anywhere near big enough.”

Sam shrugs.

“So, we build. We buy some land, we get an architect, and we get exactly what we want.”

“That seems like a hell of an undertaking, Sam. Would we even have the time?”

Sam looks at him oddly.

“Derek, we’re building a pack house, right?”

Derek nods.

“So, get the pack to help, baby guy. I’m sure Peter would be more than happy to wrangle the contractors for you. Remember how ruthless he was planning the wedding?”

Derek thinks about that for a minute, and smiles at the memory of Peter in full bridezilla mode.

“You may be right.”

“Stiles and Jess already have kids, so they know what we’ll need in the place. And Jess is an absolute demon when it comes to negotiating. Her and Peter together? The builders will have the place built in six weeks just from sheer terror.” 

Then he adds “And Stiles will probably write a book about it, called _How to make your contractor cry in seven easy steps.”_

Derek laughs aloud at that, and Sam joins in.

 Derek revels in the sound.

“God, I could listen to you laugh every damned day” he tells Sam, and suddenly finding a house doesn’t seem such a daunting task.

 

* * *

 

 

All thoughts of houses are pretty much tabled for the next two weeks, as Derek delivers baby after baby after baby.

It’s almost as if the babies have been waiting for him to be available – the week he took off, he only missed a single delivery, and when Phil explained that Derek was taking care of his own omega’s health needs, the mother cooed at the thought, and told her husband that he’d just have to step up to the plate.

It wasn’t as smooth or easy as it would have been with Derek there, but it wasn’t bad either, and the baby was fine and the couple was thrilled with their daughter, as Phil reported to Derek when he asked.

Now though, it’s just deliveries nonstop, and Derek’s exhausted.

It helps to have Sam waiting at home, so that at least he has a warm body to curl up to when he finally gets some sleep, but he’s so damned tired that cuddling ups _all_ he has the energy for.

Sam understands, it’s the nature of the job, but he’s getting a little lonely, especially since he doesn’t feel confident to drive himself – he still has random dizzy spells, and he hates the thought of anything happening while he’s out on his own.

He’s moping on the couch one morning when there’s a knock at the door, and he opens it to see Stiles standing there.

“Hey, Sam. Feel up to an outing?” Stiles asks, and there’s something about his expression that promises he’s up to no good.

Sam lets him in, and asks “Sure? Where to?”

“Well I figured you’d be bored with Derek working so much, and I also figured you might be starting to show, so I thought we’d go and try on ugly maternity wear, and traumatize the shop assistants with our behavior.”

Sam’s face breaks into a smile at the prospect.

He’s bored, and he and Stiles are far too alike.

But then a thought strikes him.

“I  can’t, man. This is still a secret, remember. We aren’t going public with it for another couple of weeks. I can’t be seen trying on baby clothes” he sighs.

Stiles shrugs. “Fine, I’ll try shit on, and you can laugh at how bad it looks.”

Stiles looks Sam up and down, humming. “Nothing is going to fit you once you do go shopping, you do realize that, right? You’re too damned tall.”

“So I hear” Sam replies drily.

“And you’re wrong. You’re just going to the wrong places, that’s all” Sam assures him.

Stiles snorts. “Take it from me. It’s all butt ugly.”

He casts a critical eye over Sam and comments “You’ll need to get something soon. You’re getting a definite belly, and you’ve put on a few pounds all over.”

Sam slumps dramatically against the wall, throwing a hand across his eyes.

“Whatever happened to you worshiping me as Sam Evans, Supermodel?  Now you’re calling me _fat_?” he sighs.

Stiles flips him off, snickering.

“Come on, Peter’s happy to keep Lila all day, so we can grab some lunch as well.”

Sam quickly dresses to go out, and he hates to admit it, but he _is_ getting a small, but definite, belly.

He puts on his slightly less ass hugging jeans, and his slightly looser t shirt.

At least his damned beanie still fits.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles insists on eating first, saying the Beans are hungry. Sam thinks lunch sounds a fantastic idea, and between the two of them they put away an impressive amount of food.

“We’ll need our strength for this. Prepare for a display of awesome ugliness the likes of which you’ve never seen before.  I have no intention of buying most of it, I just want to try it on and make gagging noises, honestly. And I figured you could do with the entertainment” Stiles tells him cheerfully.

“I’m in. How bad are the store assistants?” Sam asks eagerly.

“Oh, this one place? Soo, so bad. I mean last time I was only nineteen, and they looked at me like I was something they scrapes off their shoe. Mind you” he concedes, “I did openly mock their merchandise…”

‘Right. Let’s go there first” Sam says decisively.

Stiles’ face lights up at having a partner in crime.

 

* * *

 

In the end, they’re politely asked to leave.

After trying on dozens of items and loudly making his opinion known on them all, the saleswoman introduces Stiles to her trump card – the Hot New Lines.

Box pleats, corduroy, and dungarees.

“Why the HELL would I wear dungarees when I have to pee every half an hour?” Stiles asks loudly, as he stands there looking ridiculous in a pale blue blouse and dark blue and white striped overalls.

Sam can’t contain his laughter, and he doesn’t even try.

“You look like a deranged train conductor. Jesus, Stiles, you were right. These clothes really are fucking ugly” he chokes out.

At that, a manager approaches them, and tells them sternly that they’re upsetting the other customers, and that pregnant omegas are delicate creatures who deserve to shop in comfort and quiet.

Stiles looks pointedly down at his belly, saying “What am I then, chopped liver?”

“ _Most_ pregnant omegas” the manager corrects smoothly.

Sam sighs loudly, and says “Fine. We’ll go. I’ll just take Stiles to get some _decent_ pregnancy wear.”

He turns to Stiles and asks “Tell me, how do you feel about Gucci? I know a guy there.”

‘There’s no Gucci in Beacon Hills” Stiles hisses.

“Oh, I know. They’ll ship it to me” Sam says casually, and pulls off his beanie and shakes out his hair, and suddenly in the blink of an eye, he’s _Sam Evans, supermodel._

And Stiles knows Sam’s a model, but it’s still something to see when he goes into work mode, and people realize exactly _who_ they’re talking to.

It’s the manager who recognizes him first.

“Mr Evans! I’m so sorry sir, we didn’t realize it was you. Please, feel free to stay and shop."

Sam casts an eye up and down the manager, before turning to Stiles.

“Tell me Uncle Stiles, shall we stay, or shall I call my friend at Gucci? Did you want to try anything else here?”

Stiles snorts.

“Fuck, no. Let’s get my delicate omega self out of here, and you can buy me some decent clothes somewhere else.”

And they swan out, leaving the manager scowling after them.

Sam tells Stiles that he hasn’t had such fun in a long time.

“Just so long as you know, once your news is out, I expect you to try on all that ugly shit so I can laugh at _you_ ” Stiles laughs.

They go back to Sam and Derek’s place, and they both sink onto the couch with a groan.

They look at each other, and snicker.

“God, listen to us. What will we be like by the time we’re due?” Stiles sighs out.

Sam eyes him quietly.

“Are you OK with having twins, Stiles? I mean, at least I knew it was in the cards for us, but it came out of left field for you guys.”

Stiles looks like he’s considering his answer carefully.

“I was pretty pissed at first. I mean, first I get pregnant out of heat, then I’m having two?  After Delilah being a surprise baby, I would have liked something to go to plan for once. But the more I think about it, the more excited I get, you know?

He smiles softly as he continues “And Peter? Peter’s so damned happy for us, how can I not be as well? He’s thrilled, and proud as punch. I swear, if he was a peacock, his tail feathers would be spread right out, man.”

“Peter _is_ a peacock, Stiles” Sam points out.

“Says the man who makes his living as a model” Stiles shoots back.

“ _Retired_ model” Sam corrects.

At the talk of Peter, Stiles pulls out his phone and calls the man in question.

“Hello darling, how did your shipping trip go?” Peter purrs.

“We got asked to leave for disturbing their calm atmosphere” Stiles reports happily.

“Well, that was your plan, wasn’t it?” Peter sounds amused.

“Yep. And now Sam says he’s buying me Gucci, so I’m gonna hang out here and we’re gonna spend his money.”

Peter laughs, tells him to have fun, and hangs up.

Once they’ve caught their breath a little more, they start looking at websites for designer maternity wear.

Sam looks at what’s on offer, and then at the prices.

“I can’t believe they charge that for one pair of pants! Who has three hundred dollars for maternity pants?” he exclaims.

“We do, Sam.” Stiles reminds him.

“Well yeah, but most people don’t - _normal_ people don’t “ Sam grumbles, as he orders two pairs, one for him and one for Stiles.

“Hey, I was kidding, you don’t need to shop for me, honestly” Stiles protests.

Sam just keeps shopping, claiming its fair payment for the day’s entertainment.

And they do manage to find a few things that don’t look too bad, so Sam buys them, still muttering about the cost.

Finally, he clicks on the checkout button, and sits back, mentally exhausted.

He looks down doubtfully at his tiny belly, and asks Stiles “They’ll fit, right?”

 

* * *

 

 

When Derek finally gets home, Sam tells him about his outing.

“I ended up buying pregnancy wear online, Derek, and that stuffs’ expensive, if you want anything decent” he gripes.

Derek turns at his words, saying “Wait, you bought pregnancy clothes?” and he beams at Sam.

“Well, yeah. I’m gonna need them soon, since your spawn are growing” Sam tells him.

Derek looks at Sam, and sees his tiny belly, and he’s overcome with affection. His tiredness falls away as he drags Sam into a hug, and then pulls back so he can stroke his belly.

Sam rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“Our spawn, Pretty boy. _Our_ spawn.”

 

* * *

 

 

Two things happen the next day.

Well, three things.

 

Firstly, Derek finally has a day off.

He sleeps in until Sam wakes him by slipping a hand between his legs.

He’s suddenly had enough sleep, but they stay in bed anyway.

 

 

They’ve only been up for half an hour when the second thing happens.

Sam’s parcel arrives.

He signs for it, and opens it eagerly.

The clothes are……

Adequate, is possibly the best term to describe them.

The pants fit, and they’re reasonable quality, but as Sam complains to Derek “These are not three hundred dollar jeans, man. They’re taking advantage.”

The rest of the clothing is the same – serviceable, but not worth what they’re charging.

Sam mutters about ripping off people who don’t have any choice, until Derek’s forced to distract him with steamy kisses and an offer to take him back to bed and do that thing with his tongue that Sam likes so much.

Sam runs so fast up the stairs he nearly trips, but his new reflexes save him.

Derek carries him the rest of the way anyway.

 

The third thing happens when they get out of bed for the second time.

It’s much later, and Sam’s been rimmed to within an inch of his life.

He’s forgotten completely about the injustice of overpriced clothing.

He’s clicking through web pages idly, and on a whim he clicks on the real estate page they’d bookmarked.

He opens the new listings, and a photo catches his eye.

He reads the information, and then he rereads it.

“Hey Der, come here a minute?” he calls out.

Derek’s still damp from the shower when he comes into the room, wearing nothing but a towel and a satisfied smile.

“What’s up, pretty boy?”

“This. Look at this.”

Sam spins the screen around to show Derek the house.

It’s huge.

It’s cheap.

It’s in a perfect location.

And it needs massive amounts of work.

But still, there’s something about it that Sam warms to immediately, and he watches Derek eagerly to gauge his reaction.

Derek’s face looks serious as he looks at the pictures and reads the description, and then he raises one eyebrow, which Sam translates perfectly as _this could be our house_.

“I know, right? We should look.”

Derek hums.

“How many bedrooms? “ he asks.

“Ten” Sam grins.

“We should look” Derek agrees.

They make an appointment for the following week, after the full moon.

 


	8. Cat's Out of the Bag.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Peter share their news with the pack.  
> So do Derek and Sam.

 

It’s Sam’s third full moon, and he asks “Hey Derek, shall we just tell the rest of the pack tonight? I mean, I'm ten weeks, and I know Stiles is telling them about the twins, so we may as well give them our news as well.”

Derek considers it.

“You know what? Let’s tell them. As long as Peter and Stiles don’t mind. But be prepared to be hugged and scented half to death” he warns with a smile.

Sam gives him a lazy smile in return, saying “I think I’ll cope.”

 

* * *

 

 

They’ve the last to arrive at Peter’s, because Sam felt a little faint and had to lie down, and then he felt better, and so he dragged Derek into  bed with him because Sam’s pregnancy hormones are really starting to kick in and he _needed_ him.

Then they had to shower, which took longer than expected because it ended up with Sam kneeling on the tiles as he begged Derek for more, faster, harder. 

But that’s all a little hard to explain, so Derek settles for “Sorry,we got caught up.”

From the expression on Peter’s face, he can guess exactly how, but he and Stiles aren’t any better, so he doesn’t call them on it, just smirks quietly.

After a quiet conversation with Peter and Stiles, Derek gives Sam a small nod.

They’re telling the pack.

Once everyone’s settled in, Stiles announces “Delilah wants to tell you all something."

He kisses her softly as he encourages her”Go ahead Princess, tell them what Daddy told you before”

She’s sitting next to Stiles, and she leans over and pats his belly before telling everyone solemnly “Papa has babies. In here.”

Scott nods, and says “We know, Lila. Papa has a baby in there.”

Delilah shakes her head, and she raises one tiny eyebrow and gives Scott a look that clearly says she’s thinks he's an idiot.

(She really does take after her Daddy, sometimes.)

“ _Babiessss_ ” she repeats, drawing out the ssss. “ _Two_ babies.”

She holds up two pudgy fingers to make her point, after looking across to Peter for confirmation that she is, in fact, holding up the right number of fingers.

“Twins? Really? ” asks Scott.

“Twins. Really” Peter confirms, a little smugly.

Isaac is the first to hug Stiles, saying “That’s fantastic, Stiles!”

“It is, isn’t it?” he adds uncertainly.

Stiles rolls his eyes as he says “Yeah, it actually is. Now that I’m used to the idea, anyway.”

He spends the next few minutes getting hugged and congratulated and teased about his overactive reproductive system, and Peter accepts hugs and handshakes as well.

Everyone can see by the look on his face that he’s thrilled.

Finally Derek clears his throat and says “Actually, we have news as well.”

In imitation of Delilah’s earlier pronouncement, he pat’s Sam’s belly and tells them “Sam has babies in here.”

Silence falls over the room for a moment, until Scott exclaims “Bullshit!”

Lydia swats him around the back of the head, saying “No swearing in front of Lila, Scott.”

Then she whirls to face Sam and Derek, saying “You’re pregnant? Really?”

Sam breaks into a grin and says “Yep. Twins.”

Lydia honest to god whoops at the news.

‘Oh my god!  That’s fantastic! Derek, do you have any idea how cute those babies are going to be with you and Sam’s genes? _Do you?_ ” she demands.

“Yeah, they’ll probably be pretty cute. They’ll definitely have great hair” he replies, laughing.

Sam just stands there smiling broadly, hands on his stomach.

And then, as Derek predicted, he finds himself subjected to a barrage of hugs, which he returns happily.

He spends most of the night surrounded by shifted wolves who all want to scent him, and shyly lay a hand on his slowly growing bump, and cuddle up. Derek’s wrapped around his back, and Stiles and Lila are on his other side.

Delilah’s the most excited of them all, and she keeps petting Sam and Stiles’ belly in turn, cooing “ _babies_ , Daddy” to Peter in an awestruck voice, and Peter’s tone is warm and satisfied as he coos right along with her.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning,  the pack have all taken their leave, and Delilah’s taken herself back to bed as she often does the day after a full moon, rubbing her eyes and saying “Wanna sleep, Papa.”

After tucking her in with a hug and a kiss to her forehead, Peter takes Stiles by the hand and leads him into the bedroom.

Stile yawns as he follows him, expecting that they’re going to nap as well, but instead Peter leads him over to the full length mirror, lifting Stiles’ shirt as he wraps himself round his back and runs his hands over his bump.

Stiles leans back into him, asking “What are you doing, Peter?”

“I just wanted to tell you that I love you, and that you look amazing when you’re pregnant, sweetheart. When you were expecting Lila, I didn’t tell you nearly enough, and I almost lost you because of it. So I want to make sure that you know that this” and he runs a hand possessively over Stiles’ body “Is gorgeous. You’re beautiful, and I’ll always think so. You’re the father of my children, Stiles. You’re giving me twins, and I couldn’t be happier about it. So thank you. Thank you for my family.”

Stiles spins, wide eyed.

“Why are you saying this? Are you sick?” he demands.

Peter shakes his head, chuckling.

“No, sweetheart. I’m just trying to be a better husband this time around, and make sure you know how I feel” he reassures Stiles.

Last time Stiles was pregnant, Peter had inadvertently upset the omega, and it had led to a nightmare scenario with Stiles in hospital and Peter drunk and spilling his guts to a barman.

This time, he’s determined it’s going to be different.

Peter walks away from Stiles, opening his bedside drawer and retrieving something.

He turns and Stiles sees a ring box in his hand.

Peter opens it, takes out a broad black and silver platinum band with diamonds running around the centre of it, and holds it in his palm.

Then he slips the ring on Stiles’ right hand ring finger. 

Stiles holds out his hand and wiggles his fingers, smiling broadly.

“Peter, it’s gorgeous!”

He looks concerned for a moment, and turns to Peter, saying seriously “You do know I’m happy about the babies too, right? This isn’t you apologizing for your super sperm is it? Because I know you think I wasn’t happy about it to start with, but mainly that was because I was worried I was going to have another pregnancy like the last one. But the Beans are _good_ babies, and it’s all going so well, I can’t help but get excited now.”

Peter shakes his head. “I would never apologize for our family. I got you a gift, because I love you” he says simply

Stiles drags Peter in for a hug.

He’s right, everything _is_ going well.

It may be because they’re married now, or because they’ve been together for years, but Stiles doesn’t have the crippling case of Alpha Proximity Dependency that he had last time.  And Peter, in turn, is far less possessive. 

It’s been a much less fraught pregnancy all round, news of twins notwithstanding, and they’re both quietly relieved.

Stiles wraps his arms around Peter’s neck, and he hums happily.

“I mean, I still have to pee all the time, and I still need you to rub my feet every night, and I’m always hungry, but that’s normal, I guess.

 And in a few months I’ll probably get huge and cranky and yell at you for no reason, but for now? I’m happy. I even like my baby belly. This time it’s different.”

He pulls Peter closer and scents him, before amending “ _Mostly_ different, anyway. _Some_ things are the same” as he slips a hand between them and rubs his hand over the front of Peter’s jeans.

“Oh? How so?” Peter asks innocently, even though he knows exactly how.

Stiles kisses Peter hungrily, before pulling back and telling him “Guess” with a smirk.

Peter pulls Stiles’ shirt off and walks him backwards towards the bed, asking “Am I on the right track?”

Stiles nods eagerly as he sits on the bed and strips off the rest of his clothing.

“Come to bed, and make love to me Peter? Please?”

Peter eyes Stiles’ naked body hungrily, and then he locks the bedroom door.

Delilah normally sleeps half the day away, but why take a chance?

 

* * *

 

 

Sam and Derek hit their bed as well, but in their case it’s actually to sleep.

Sam’s wiped out from the full moon, and so is Derek, but Phil’s texted him to let him know that they’ve got a pregnant father on his way in later in the day, so Derek’s sleeping while he can.

Sam insists on being the big spoon, saying “I gotta snuggle you before I get too big, dude” as he wraps his arms firmly around Derek.

Derek grunts in response, already drifting off.

He gets five hours before he’s called into work, and he wakes fuzzy headed and cranky.

Sam takes one look at him, with his bed head and pillow creased face, and goes to make coffee.

By the time Derek’s showered and dressed, Sam has coffee and food ready, and once he’s eaten, Sam hugs him tight, giving him one last kiss.

“I promise I’ll be waiting here naked when you get home, baby guy. Now go and do your thing” he tells Derek, before sending him out the door.

Derek perks up at the thought, and he’s practically cheerful by the time he gets to work.

The delivery’s an easy one, and Derek gets to cuddle and scent the wolf baby, who snuffles and squeaks eagerly at his neck, and he can’t help but smile.

The father asks “Any of your own?” and Derek’s tempted to say yes, but he reminds himself that their news isn’t public, not quite yet, so he settles for “Not yet. Got a husband at home though, so that’s a start.”

He heads home to said husband, who is, as promised, naked in bed.

Naked, and fast asleep.

Derek lays on the bed quietly, and spends time just looking at Sam.

He looks good.

He’s glowing, for want of a better word.  Because he was so lean and muscled before, the tiny curve of his stomach is that much more obvious, and Derek can’t help but kiss it gently, thinking of the two children in there. Derek starts stroking his fingers idly through Sam’s hair, and reflects that he doesn’t know how he got so damned lucky.

He curls up next to Sam and dozes off, fingers still tangled in his locks.

There’ll be time for sex later. They have the rest of their lives, after all.

 

* * *

 

 

At Sam’s request, his agent puts out a small paragraph press release stating that Sam Evans and his husband Derek Hale are expecting twins in late February, and that Sam is taking a break from modeling.

Derek looks at him, surprised, when Sam tells him.

“I thought you’d get Kevin to do a photoshoot?’ he asks.

Sam shrugs. “It’s not like I’m looking to make it big news. Besides, it’s a case of out of sight, out of mind in the modeling world, babe. Nobody will even care.”

He turns to Derek and says “That is a good idea, though, taking some photos. Just for us” he clarifies.

“Maybe we can get some taken, just for fun? And then we’ll have a record, later.”

Derek smiles at the idea, and nods. “I’ll call Kevin.”

Kevin tells them he’d love to take pictures for them, and they have a lot of fun as they spend the day posing stupidly and pulling faces.

Derek’s favorite is a shot of Sam lifting the hem of his shirt and looking down at his stomach. His jeans are unzipped and the baby bump is clearly visible. He has an expression of sheer astonishment on his face, eyes wide, mouth open, as if to say _'how the hell did that get there?'_

Derek’s standing next to him wearing a smug expression, chin tilted towards Sam’s belly, arms folded across his chest, and on one hand he’s holding up two fingers.

The picture sums them up perfectly. It’s fun, and unconventional, and it makes Derek laugh, just like Sam does.

 

Sam’s favorite, though, is different.

It’s one where he’s laying on a couch with his head in Derek’s lap, shirtless, eyes closed, with his hands laced together over his bump. Derek’s running his fingers through Sam’s hair, and gazing down at him with a tiny smile, and a soft look on his face.

They hadn’t even known Kevin had taken it. They’d finished shooting when he took it, and Sam had been having a nap.

Kevin had shyly shown it to them when he gave them the rest of the prints,  and Sam fell in love with it.

He loves it because it shows _his_ baby guy, the one he adores, the one who adores him back.

 

* * *

 

They do go and see the house Sam found, and they do buy it.

It’s perfect, and they fall in love with it immediately.  Most of the work that needs to be done is cosmetic, and the owners are desperate to sell, so the price is much lower than it should be.

When Derek takes Peter to see it, he walks through the property slowly, taking in all the details, nodding to himself.

When he finishes the tour, he turns to Derek and says “Ten bedrooms? Four bathrooms?”

Derek nods.

He ticks off on his fingers “A room for us, a room for you and Stiles, a room for Lila, a room for Lydia, a room for Scott, and Isaac, a room for both sets of twins, and a couple of spares.”

Peter observes him thoughtfully.

Finally, he says “You bought a pack house, nephew.”

Peter's face is unreadable, but Derek can smell the sheer happiness coming off him in waves.

“I bought a pack house, Uncle.” he replies, beaming.

“As any good Alpha should” Peter tells him briskly, throwing his arm around Derek’s shoulder. “Now, let’s talk about what we need to do to make this livable. I assume you want me to help?”

He walks with Derek through the house, arm still slung over his shoulder, as they make plans for their pack together.

 

* * *

 

Sam’s blood pressure’s low again, and he’s back to feeling dizzy when he stands for too long.

Derek makes sure Sam spends plenty of time flat on his back though, while he takes care of him.  Sam might be too light headed to stand, but he can lay down and spread his legs eagerly for Derek with no ill effects at all, and he revels in it.

He’s suddenly insatiable.

He’ll look at Derek, and his wolf will perk up, and then he’ll find he can’t stop thinking about how Derek’s hands will feel on his skin, and how his beard will feel against the soft flesh of his thighs, and how his cock will feel sliding easily in, and suddenly he’ll want nothing more than to drag Derek to bed.

It’s not the mindless need of a heat; he’s not savage and desperate and driven the way a heat makes him; he just _wants._

So every chance he gets, he’ll casually ask “Hey, baby guy. Wanna get lucky?”

Derek will take one look at Sam, who will be deliberately sprawled on the sofa with his legs spread obscenely wide, running his hand through his hair because he _knows_ Derek has a thing for his hair, and he’ll growl, and scoop Sam up, and carry him to the bedroom as Sam laughs breathlessly at being carried, and then he'll go to work and absolutely wreck him.

Sam’s just glad of his new werewolf healing, because he’d hate to have to explain the beard burn on his thighs to his uncle when he goes for his three month checkup.

He wonders about the wisdom of having a family member as his doctor, some days.

Phil reports that everything’s going well, the babies are growing as expected, their heartbeats are strong and steady.

Other than the dizziness, Sam’s having a textbook pregnancy.

‘No questions? No concerns?” he asks them.

Sam looks at Derek and says “Actually, yeah.”

He blushes, and fidgets, which is completely unlike him.

Derek looks on, bemused, as he waits to see what has Sam embarrassed.

“I just wondered exactly how long my, um, urges will last?” he finally says, staring at his lap.

Phil’s eyebrows raise.

“Is there a problem?” he asks.

‘No, no problem, not really, I just wondered if it’s going to be like this the whole time?”

“Like what, Sam?” asks Phil, just to be sure they’re on the same page.

Sam sighs as he spells it out.

“I just can’t get enough of Derek. I want to touch him, and be all over him, and be _with_ him, all the damned time.”

Phil smiles, and tells Sam “This is actually pretty common in werewolf couples. Welcome to one of the best parts of werewolf pregnancy, Sam.  You’ll probably want to have record amounts of sex. As your hormone levels change, Derek’s will kick in to match, and he’ll be as bad as you. It’s not harmful, and there are no restrictions. You won’t hurt the babies at all, just watch your blood pressure.“

Derek’s grinning widely as he listens to Phil, and he winks at Sam.

Sam confirms “So, this is normal? Not APD?”

“Where both parents are wolves, you’re at no risk of APD. Sometimes your body just wants a lot of sex. And I suggest you listen to your body” he says, grinning.

“Next time, I’m getting a doctor who’s not my uncle” Sam grumbles, blushing again.

As they go to leave, Phil says “Derek, a word in private?”

Derek nods, and sits back down.

Phil regards him for a long minute.

“You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?” he finally says.

Derek looks confused, saying “No? Why would you think that?”

“Well, with the twins due, I just thought you might have too much on your plate, that’s all. You’re sure you’re not leaving?” Phil checks.

“Absolutely not. Sure, I’ll want some time when the babies are due, and obviously if Sam needs me that takes priority, but I’m not leaving, Phil. I was actually going to suggest that I call the couples I have booked in around Sam’s due date, and give them the heads up that I might not be available, but other than that? I love what I do. Why would I stop?”

Phil breathes a sigh of relief, saying “OK, I can stop worrying now.”

Derek laughs.  “I have the best job in the world Phil, and I plan to keep doing it.”

“So you’ll be there for Sam’s delivery?” Phil asks, interested.

‘Wouldn’t miss it. Although, you never know. When it’s Sam, I might fall apart, so you have full permission to kick me out if I become one of those alphas” Derek laughs.

Phil laughs too, because Sam’s so laid back, that Phil can only imagine it’s going to be the easiest delivery ever.

* * *

 

As soon as they leave the office, Sam asks Derek what Phil wanted.

“He was worried I was going to quit” Derek reveals.

Sam shakes his head at his uncle’s foolishness.

“As if you’d quit. You love all the babies” Sam says. “I can’t wait to see you with ours. Can you imagine it though, all cuddled up with a baby each?”

“Yeah. I really can” says Derek, before leaning over and kissing Sam softly.

 


	9. A Stitch in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Sam bond over ugly clothing.

 

Sam wakes and stretches, catlike and langorous.

He can hear the shower running, which means that either he’s slept late and Derek couldn’t wake him, or Derek’s been called to work and didn’t have time to make love to him before getting ready to leave.

There’s only the barest trace of daylight filtering into the room, so Sam deduces that it’s the latter.

Sam sits up in bed, and waits to see if he can safely get up, or if he’ll feel like falling. After a moment, he concludes that today’s a good day, so he slides out of bed and stands.

Derek must hear Sam moving about, because the next thing he knows, the water’s shut off and Derek’s striding across the room towards him, wet and naked and cranky.

“What did Phil tell you? You don’t get up without eating, Sam. Sit.” Derek orders.

Sam rolls his eyes, but sits back on the edge of the bed, knowing that even if he tells Derek he feels fine, he won’t be believed.

Derek hands him a granola bar from the bedside table, and just stands there, arms folded and dripping all over the floor, as Sam obediently eats it under his steely glare.

Sam’s edging up to four months pregnant, and Derek has entered what Sam lovingly calls his Mama Bear stage. He’s started hovering, ready in case Sam might need a drink, or a snack, or a rescue from marauding vikings, or someone to peel his grapes.

Sam finds it adorable, but slightly worrying.

 

Once Derek's gone to work Sam calls Stiles and asks “So, is this normal? Derek’s hovering, and waiting on me hand and foot.” 

Stiles laughs loudly.

“Oh man, be glad he’s not as bad as Peter was with Lila. He punched Scott for hugging me, once. But yeah, it’s a thing. It might just be the Hales, I don’t know.  Resistance is futile though, just go with it” he advises.

“Is Peter like that this time, though?”

Stiles snorts. “He’s trying to hide it, but now that he can feel the babies moving and hear their heartbeats, I think he’d keep me confined to the bed and do nothing but scent me and cuddle me, if he had his way.“

“I never thought Peter would be such a sap” Sam muses.

‘Oh, you have no idea. He’s as tough as nails, until it comes to his family, and then he’s just hopeless.”

“Sooo” Stiles starts. “Are you feeling well enough to go out?”  

“Yeah, I am actually. Derek’s delivering babies, so there’s just me here. Did you have a plan?” Sam says eagerly.

“Well, you owe me. You promised you’d try on the ugly baby clothes so I could laugh at you, and I need to go and get something bigger anyway, the Beans are growing much faster than Lila. Shall we get Peter to take us shopping?”

“Sounds good, but what about Delilah?”

“Oh, she’s having a sleepover at my Pop’s. I don’t know what they get up to, but she always comes home giggling. They both love it” Stiles replies.

When Noah had heard he was going to be a grandfather again twice over, he’d been stunned. But once he’d recovered from the shock, he’d pointed at Peter and Stiles and said “You two are going to need some downtime, so Lila’s coming to stay with me overnight at least once a week, OK?” and neither of them had dared to argue.

They come over and collect Sam, and venture once more into the world of men’s pregnancy wear, or as Stiles calls it “ _Man_ ternity clothes.”

Sam snickers when he hears it, saying “Somebody should market it as that, it would be a best seller.”

“Only if it was attached to something less awful than _that_ ”   Stiles scowls, as he points to the latest travesty on display.

It’s a sky blue turtleneck dress, but in an effort to make it more masculine, they’ve added demin patches at the elbows. Stiles turns to Sam and says “You are _so_ trying that on.”

And after Stiles has grudgingly parted with money for yet more plain t shirts for Peter to ~~mutilate~~  personalize, and a couple of pairs of sweat pants that are miles too big everywhere else but fit his belly in just fine,  he sits back expectantly and tells Sam “You’re the model. So model.”

Sam takes the clothes Stiles has thrust at him and takes them into the changing room, eyeing the selection dubiously.

He tries on the turtleneck first, just to get it out of the way.

There are several problems.

Firstly, it’s made of a stretch fabric that outlines every curve of his body. _Every_ curve. Even with underwear, it’s incredibly revealing.

Secondly, it’s cut badly, sewn badly, and sits badly.

And thirdly, it’s not made for someone who’s six foot four, and it ends half way up Sam’s thighs.

Sam looks at himself on the mirror. He looks utterly stupid, but he can also see the funny side of it, so he strides confidently out of the change room and strikes a fierce pose, and hand on his hip, head tilted back, toe pointed out front, and then he struts up and down in front of Stiles and Peter wearing his best Serious Model Face.

Stiles howls with laughter when he sees it, and takes a photo to send to Jess.

 _Sam Evans, Supermodel_  

is the caption he puts on it.

Jess ends back a row of laughing emojis.

Sam tries on pants, that all end halfway up his ankles.

He tries on shirts, that are all six inches too short for his long, long torso.

He even tries on the dreaded smocks.

He models them all, laughing.

Stiles takes pictures of everything and sends the pictures off gleefully.

When he sends the last one of Sam wearing  tartan shorts that barely contain his bump,  Jess replies

**You’d better not have let him buy any of that.**

_No way. None of it fits anyway._

**So why is he trying it on? Isn’t he just going to make his own?**

_What do you mean, make his own?_

**Stiles, you realise my brother altered his own clothes for years, right? Look at him. Nothing’s ever fitted him, he’s always had to adjust it.**

_Wait, Sam can sew?_

**Of course he can. He’s an excellent sewer. He made my prom dress.**

_THIS IS IMPORTANT INFORMATION JESS  - GTG_

 

He sends the last message, puts his phone away, and looks at Sam consideringly.

“Lunch” he declares. “The Beans are hungry.”

“Will you be taking any of the items, Sir?” asks the sales assistant.

“They’re just not made for tall people, sorry” Sam tells her apologetically.

 The head out for lunch, and over Mexican they entertain themselves looking at the pictures Stiles took.

Peter can see that Stiles is thinking hard about something, but he has no idea what.

It comes out as they’re debating whether to get dessert.

“So Sam, has your height always been a problem when it comes to clothes?” he asks casually.

“When I was younger, yeah. Once I was old enough I could shop at Big and Tall, but as a teenager? Forget it’ Sam says, unaware of where Stiles is going with this.

“Jess said you used to do alterations” Stiles continues, all innocence.

Sam shrugs. “I could do the basics, I guess.  Lowering a few hems, putting in new zippers, that sort of thing.”

“And Jess’s prom dress? Just a little touch up, was it?” Stiles asks sweetly.

Sam looks at him openmouthed. “Who told you about that? That was a one-time thing! “

Stiles points at Sam and accuses “You can sew! You can sew, and you’ve been keeping it to yourself!”

“Do you know how many times this month I would have _killed_ to have someone let my clothes out a little? The three hundred dollar pants don’t even fucking fit anymore, and I can see _exactly_ where a panel thingy could go to give them a bit more stretch-“

“Gusset” Sam provides, in spite of himself.

“Yes, one of them. See? You even know what it’s called. Anyway, they need a gusset, but I don’t know how you would even do that. And you’ve known how this whole time, and never offered to help! I mean, I tried altering them, but it wasn’t particularly successful.”

Peter snorts at that.

“He was so annoyed that they didn’t fit that he cut a slit down the sides of the waistband and attempted to wedge a triangle of fabric in the gap” Peter supplies.

Sam snickers, before saying “Well, at least the logic was sound.”

Peter continues “He tried to staple it in place, and he used the fabric from an old plaid shirt.”

Stiles rolls his eyes.

“It was proof of concept, OK? I wasn’t _actually_ going to wear it out of the house.”

“You _were_ going to wear it out of the house. I had to hide your car keys to stop you going to the store.”

“That’s beside the point. The _point_ is, Sam here can _sew_. He can make stuff that will actually fit us.”

Sam’s sat quietly through the whole exchange, and now Stiles stares at him expectantly.

“I haven’t done it in a few years, but I guess I could try?” he offers.

“Yesss! “Stiles fist pumps.

“I don’t have a machine, or patterns, or fabric, so don’t get too excited” Sam tells him, laughing.

 “Peter. Next stop, that fabric place, you know the one? They have machines there, we’ll get it all today” Stiles commands his husband, and Peter just nods obediently, knowing that when Stiles is on a mission, its best to just go along.

Sam’s already learned the same thing, so he nods as well.

 

* * *

 

 

When Derek comes home from delivering triplets, the last thing he expects to find is Stiles and Sam with their heads together over a sketch book, debating the merits of stretch banding vs drawstrings.

There’s a sewing machine set up on the dining table.

There are several items of clothing strewn around, some of them partly disassembled. There’s a pile of fabric, a tape measure, scissors, and an honest to god pincushion.

He wraps an arm around Sam’s shoulder, saying “Hey, pretty boy, what’s going on?”

Sam leans in for a kiss, and then, excitement evidence on his face, says “Hey, baby guy. Guess what?”

“What?”

Sam stands and turns, and he looks….different somehow. More like himself.

“My jeans fit again Derek, the ones with the great ass” he says smugly, and that’s when Derek pinpoints the difference.

The clothes Sam’s wearing actually _fit_ him _._

He’s done something to them, and now they fit him again, despite his bump.

Stiles turns to Derek and says “I’m in love with your husband, just so you know. He’s a genius.”

“It looks great, Sam. What did you do?” Derek asks, impressed.

‘I just made a few alterations, that’s all.”

“Gussets. He added gussets” Stiles interjects.

He hauls himself out of his chair with a wince, before turning to show Derek the discreet panels that Sam’s inserted under the arms and down the sides of his **_Fat as Fuck_** shirt, adding a little more room in the front and making the whole thing flow better.

Derek didn’t even notice Peter sitting quietly on the couch, but he stands and walks over, saying “Stiles, time for a break” in a firm tone.

‘It’s fine, Peter” Stiles protests, even as he pulls a face when he turns.

“No. Your back’s tightening up, I can see it, and you smell like you’re  in pain. You need to go home and rest, and Sam probably needs a break as well” Peter decrees.

“How long have they been at this?” Derek asks Peter.

“Since lunch time. Stiles found out Sam could sew, and it all spiraled out of control from there, I’m afraid” he tells him.

Derek looks at his watch.

“Sam, have you been sitting here for _seven hours_ without a break? Have you _eaten?”_ he demands.

 _“_ Yes, _Mom_ ” Sam replies with an eye roll. “Peter made me stop and eat, and we keep having to stop to pee anyway.”

Derek nods, mollified.

Peter insists that it’s time to call it a day though, reminding Stiles that he might say he feels fine now, but when he’s crying because his back’s seized later it won’t be fun.

“I guess you’re right” Stiles grumbles good naturedly, and he and Peter take their leave.

Once they’ve left, Derek gives Sam a proper hug and scents him deeply.

“You smell tired” he observes.

“Yeah. I might have overdone it. Everything aches” Sam confesses.

“Run me a bath?  And then get in it with me and wash my back?” he asks Derek hopefully.

“Sure thing, pretty boy. And  then you can tell me why it looks like a fabric monster threw up in our living room.”

And so they climb into their giant tub together, and Sam explains that he always used to sew his own clothing, and he’s always found the rhythm and the order of sewing soothing, but he hasn’t had the time to do it in years. And then he tells Derek about Stiles and his insistence that Sam attempt some alterations, and the way it had all come back to him, like riding a bike.

By the time he’s shared his tale, Derek’s washed him thoroughly, and he can feel his erection nudging him insistently from behind.

“I think I’m relaxed enough for bed now. Wanna get lucky?” Sam asks with a smirk.

“Hell, yes” Derek growls out.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles texts Sam the next day to tell him that Peter had turned out to be annoyingly correct, and his back’s all seized to hell, so they’ll have to postpone the rest of their sewing bee.

Sam doesn’t mind, truth be told.

His body is making him pay for yesterday as well, and he’s feeling distinctly tired and achy.

So he sprawls on the couch, watches some TV, and doodles on his sketch pad.

He enjoyed himself yesterday, but he can’t help but think that it would be so much easier to improve on the designs in the first place.

 

Derek’s had to go to work, but Sam promised him he’d take it easy, so now he’s home alone, and his mind wanders as his hands sketch.

He thinks about overpriced, poorly made clothing, and he thinks about _Manternity_ wear, and he thinks about Stiles and his love for plaid, and he thinks about the stupid turtleneck dress, and about what he’d actually _like_ to wear for the next five months.

He sketches, and then he dozes, and only wakes when Derek slips the sketchpad from his hands and closes the cover.

Derek kisses his brow and runs his fingers through his hair gently.

“Hey. Feeling better?” Derek asks him softly.

“Hmmm. I must have dropped off.” Sam yawns.

Derek flips through the pages absently, eyebrows raised.

‘Project?” he asks.

“I thought I’d make a few things for Stiles, since he’s getting so big. And it’s getting cooler, so I thought I’d work with plaid” he grins.

Derek looks at his moose of a husband spread before him, and asks “Were you planning on starting right now?”

His hormone levels have started to sync up with Sam’s, as Phil predicted, and Sam looks fantastically appealing right now.

“Not right now. Why? Have you got a better idea?” Sam responds, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“I might have an idea or two” Derek purrs in his ear, as he lifts Sam easily off the couch.

“I love when you do that, Der” Sam tells him, looping his arms around Derek’s neck in an easy embrace.

“I know. That’s why I do it” Derek grins, laying Sam down on the bed.

By the time Derek’s finished with him, Sam doesn’t even have the energy to get out of bed, and he sleeps right through till the next day.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam spends the next week and a half making a dozen plaid ‘manternity’ shirts for Stiles, tailored to fit him. He adds in hidden panels that are held in place with simple basting stitches, which can be easily removed to enlarge the garments as needed.

He makes him cargo pants with stretch panels in the front and sides, in black and navy and army green.

He makes him jeans that look like jeans.

They’re men’s clothes, and he’s quietly proud of the result.

He gets so inspired he makes some for himself as well, enough to see him through the next couple of months at least.

He looks at the finished products, and then he has a thought.

He sets up the embroidery foot on the machine, and stitches a small three lettered logo on the left hand breast of all the shirts and on the front of the pants pockets, smirking as he does so.

Then he bundles everything up and calls a courier to deliver it to Stiles.

He hopes Stiles notices the logo - he thinks he’ll get a kick out of it.

 

* * *

 

He’s in the bathroom when he hears his phone pinging with a string of texts.

By the time he gets to his phone, there are sixteen messages from Stiles.

He’s sent photos of him wearing the new clothes, grinning broadly.

There’s a picture of Peter as well, pointing to the logo and rolling his eyes.

A new message comes through just then, from Peter.

_HSS? Really Sam?_

**It was too good to resist. Did Stiles like it?**

_He spotted it as soon as he opened the package, and then he mocked me mercilessly, so I’d say so_

Sam shrugs on one of his own new shirts, snaps a selfie with his belly clearly visible, and sends it to both Peter and Stiles with a message saying

**Satisfied HSS user**

The next moment his phone rings, and it’s Stiles.

He’s laughing so hard he can barely speak.

“Satisfied HSS user? Oh God, Sam, that’s amazing” he wheezes out.

Sam laughs in return, saying “Hey, the Hale Super Sperm deserved its moment of glory, OK?”

Stiles has settled down enough to speak, and he says “Seriously, thanks man. The clothes are amazing. Why don’t they sell stuff like this?”

“Because there’s no money in it” Sam replies absently.

“But there could be, if someone did it right” Stile protests.

“Nah, it’ll never happen. It’s too small a market, and it’s not like people can choose not to buy what they’re offered. Its smocks or nothing. Just hope those turtlenecks don’t take off” Sam advises.

Stiles agrees with a sigh, and hangs up.


	10. Daddy Derek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek spends some time with his babies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No plot, just fluff. Barely counts as a chapter.

 

 

Derek’s lying curled around Sam’s back, hands splayed over his bump, when it first happens.

He dozing, snuggled up to his husband’s warmth and trying to decide if it’s too early to wake Sam up for some lazy morning sex, when he feels a small movement beneath his hand. It’s quick, there and gone, and Derek freezes.

Instinctively, he presses down lightly on Sam’s belly, and is rewarded with another small, but distinct, motion.

Sam continues to sleep peacefully, although how he possibly can, Derek doesn’t know.

Derek rubs his hands over Sam’s rounded stomach, gently encouraging the babies to move again, and after a minute or two, he feels a flutter on the other side of his bump – the other twin.

He can’t help but shake Sam now.

“Sam?  Sam, wake up!” he whispers excitedly.

Sam sleeps on, unaware of the momentous event taking place. He sleeps like the dead now, his body desperate for rest as it’s taxed to its limits by the small invaders that have taken up residence.

Derek tries once more to wake him, but Sam doesn’t respond except to roll onto his back and carry on sleeping.

Derek looks down his husband’s naked body and smiles to himself.

Sam has a rounded barrel of a belly, bigger than normal for four and a half months, and a slight swelling at his chest, but otherwise he’s still long and lean, and Derek loves the sight of him. He shuffles quietly down the bed and places his ear to Sam’s stomach, and he can hear the tiny twin heartbeats, slightly out of sync with each other, but both strong. His face breaks into a wide smile as he spends long minutes just listening. His hands trace over Sam’s skin as he waits to feel more movement.

He remembers how Lila had responded to an Alpha voice, and feeling slightly foolish, he starts to talk to his babies.

“Hey there, little ones. It’s your daddy” he begins hesitantly.

One small kick.

“I can feel you in there, did you know that?”

Two small kicks.

He pauses, closing his eyes, listening and reveling in the sound of the twin’s hearts beating.

He never knew such a small sound, such tiny movements, could make him feel so much.

 

“You’re my good babies, being so good for Sam. And we’re so excited to meet you when you get here, you know that?” he murmurs softly against the skin of Sam’s swollen abdomen.

He rambles on and on, about how they wanted a baby, and now they’re having two, and how lucky they, are and how much he loves Sam, and the wolf in him preens happily at the special time he’s getting to spend with his new family.

“We’ve bought a house, and we’re getting it ready for you, and I can’t wait to see if you look like Sam or like me, but you’ll be my precious babies, no matter what” he croons.

There’s a flurry of tiny movements then, and Sam makes a soft noise as he wakes up.

“What are you doing, baby guy?” he yawns out.

Derek lifts his head, and Sam can see the pure amazement on his face.

“They’re moving, Sam, the babies are moving!”

Sam stills for a moment, and Derek whispers encouragingly “Come on, show your father what you’ve been doing.”

There’s no response, so Derek resorts to an old trick, one he uses on his newborns at the hospital.

He starts to rumble, deep in his chest, the sound rich in the quiet of the early morning.  And after only a few seconds, the babies respond.

Sam’s eyes fly wide open as he says “Holy shit, Derek. Our babies are moving!”

Derek chuckles, rich and warm, as he says “Well yeah. That’s why I was trying to wake you, but you were out for the count.”

Sam places his own hands on his abdomen, breathing out “That’s so weird, man. Like, seriously weird.”

‘It’s not weird, it’s amazing” Derek defends, suddenly protective of his children.

“It’s weirdly amazing” Sam amends, smiling at Derek’s bristling manner.

He sits upright in bed, hands still over his belly, and asks “How long have you been lying here talking to the babies while I slept?”

"Not long” Derek says, looking slightly sheepish.

Sam just looks at him.

“Maybe half an hour?” Derek admits.

“They move when I talk to them” he adds.

Sam breaks into a wide grin.

“Really? They do? Well, they obviously recognize their Daddy” he says gently as he looks lovingly at his giant fool of a husband, who’s still sitting with an awestruck expression on his face.

It’s a beautiful moment, and it’s only spoiled slightly by the fact that Sam has to scramble for the bathroom when one of the babies kicks him directly in the bladder.

 

* * *

 

 

Across town, a similar scene is playing out, with one slight difference.

Peter’s dead to the world, and Stiles is leaning back against the headboard, hands on his belly, as he talks to his children, and tells them how amazing their daddy is.

 


	11. A Weekend Away.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek whisks Sam away for a relaxing weekend, with some unexpected results.

 

The way things are going, it looks like their house will be ready in to move into within the month.

The work has gone remarkably quickly, thanks to Peter’s ability to be a ruthless asshole.

Derek had happily handed him control of the whole thing when he asked, and Peter’s enjoyed every minute of it so far.

It’s not often that he gets to legitimately terrorize people.

 

On the day work begins on the house, Peter turns up on site.

 It’s not a Peter that Sam has ever seen before.

Sam’s Peter is an absolute sap for his baby daughter, writes trashy romance novels, loves to curl up with his pack, adores his husband, and has a weakness for any kind of dark chocolate.

Asshole Peter is a whole different beast. 

He wears a suit.

He moves with such authority that Sam can almost feel the power radiating off him.

He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t joke, and he’s  steely eyed  as he tells the workers what he expects them to do, and when he expects them to do it.

When someone’s cell phone goes off while he’s speaking, the icy stare he gives the man could make small children cry.

By the time he’s finished, there’s not a person there who doubts that he can and will make their life hell if this job doesn’t go off without a hitch.

He demands daily progress reports and photos be emailed to him by 6pm sharp every night, telling the foreman that anything after six is unacceptable as he has other commitments.

Sam wonders if the man would believe him if he told him that the commitments are Lila’s bath time and story time, and Stiles’ foot rub. 

Probably not.

There have been one or two hiccups –a  late delivery of tiles, the wrong shade of paint used, but a phone call or a visit from Peter always seems to result in those problems being dealt with quickly and efficiently.

Stiles thinks it’s hilarious, telling Sam “He’s having so much fun playing the big bad wolf, man. The day he made the foreman cry because he went home half a day early was his proudest moment.”

Add to that Derek turning up unannounced on site, folding his arms and directing his impressive eyebrows at anything that he thinks isn’t up to scratch, and the workers are suitably intimidated.

Sam feels a little sorry for them to be honest, so when he goes out there he makes a point of being as non-threatening as he can.

He’s not sure if it works though, they seem more worried that he’s about to give birth in the middle of the work site than anything, no matter how often he tells them he’s got months to go.

In the end, the foreman takes him aside and tells him “Honestly Sam, don’t take this the wrong way, but please, please, stay the hell away from the site.  If you were to slip, or hurt yourself somehow, Derek would quite possibly tear me limb from limb. That man’s crazy protective of you, you know?”

 

Sam does know.

When they go out together, Derek’s always there, hand at the small of his back, guiding him, keeping him safe.

If there’s a crowd, Derek will walk ahead of him, arms out, loudly proclaiming “Man with a baby, step aside, pregnant with twins, coming through” much to Sam’s amusement.

If they have to wait anywhere, Derek will immediately disappear and come back with a chair that he’s stolen from someone, somewhere, urging Sam “Sit down, baby. Rest.” And then he’ll stand there, hovering, until Sam finally caves and sits down.

Sam’s had to draw the line at public bathroom visits, though. 

He has to take a lot of bathroom breaks, and he tells Derek in no uncertain terms that he can still pee on his own, thank you very much, he’s been doing it for twenty eight years, and he’s managed not to injure himself so far.

Derek still waits outside the door though, hovering and calling out “You OK in there?” at least three times. 

Sam just rolls his eyes and calls back “Yes _Mom._ ”

Secretly though, he quite likes protective Derek.

He’s actually become a little protective himself, truth be told. He’s finding that whereas before, when people recognized him they would ask for a selfie and a hug, now they ask for a selfie, and feel free to put their hands all over his body while they take it. His wolf doesn’t like it, and more than once he’s found himself growling lowly at someone who dared to touch him without asking first.

Stiles witnessed it one day, and offered Sam the use of his **Baby Construction Site** shirt, but it’s far too short in the body for him.

“What I want to know” Sam huffs frustratedly “Is when they’re going to open _Big and Tall and Knocked up?_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

Sam is, to put it mildly, huge.

He’s having big babies, so it’s to be expected.

If it wasn’t for his height he’d look even bigger, but as it is, he just looks like he’s seven months pregnant, rather than the five that he is.

His belly seems to move constantly now. Derek jokes that he gets seasick from watching the constant motion, but that doesn’t stop him from sighing happily as he lays his head down next to Sam’s stomach . He  whispers words of encouragement to its occupants, who they still loving call the Spawn.

At least his dizziness has finally passed – now it’s just little things, like constant indigestion, and the inability to tie his own shoes, that plague him.

That, and his overwhelming desire for sex.

Not that he or Derek really mind that last one.

But still, his mood hasn’t been the best.

When Derek comes home and Sam snaps at him because he didn’t call and see if Sam needed anything first, Derek sits him down, and gently breaks it to him that he’s been acting like an asshole lately, and he probably needs to stop.

Sam groans when he realizes that he’s right, and apologizes.

He knows he’s been snappish, but his body’s not his own, and he misses seeing his feet, and he still has four months to go.

He starts crying, for no damned reason at all.

Derek hugs him close, soothing him.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. I think we’re both tired, and we need a break. What do you say to a long weekend away?”

“We could fly to LA and stay somewhere nice, while we still can. You won’t be able to fly soon enough, and I haven’t had any time off since Bali, so Phil’s happy for me to take four days. Say yes?”

“It does sound nice” Sam sniffles.

“We’ll stay somewhere that has a day spa, and you can have all the massages you want“  

Derek does make it sound tempting.

Sam thinks about it. “I think it would be good. Are you sure Phil will let me fly, though?”

Derek smiles, and takes out the paperwork he had Phil prepare earlier.

“You’re barely five months, it’s fine. Phil’s written you a letter for the airline, since they might not believe how far along you are“ he says, showing Sam.

Sam looks at him suspiciously.

“Did you already have this planned, Derek?”

“Sure did” he admits, smiling broadly. ”I’ve booked the flights and the hotel, pretty boy. I figured we should treat ourselves. We both deserve something nice before the Spawn arrive, and I wanted to surprise you.”

He pulls up the booking details on his tablet, and Sam sees that he’s booked them a deluxe suite at the Four Seasons for three nights the following weekend.

He starts crying again, but he’s laughing at the same time and telling Derek he doesn’t deserve  him, so Derek counts it as a win.

Sam doesn’t even notice when Derek shoots off a text message later that evening.

 

* * *

 

When they go to board the plane, the flight attendant eyes Sam dubiously, but Derek hands her the letter from Phil with an expression that absolutely dares her to say anything, and she leads them to their seats without incident.

Sam’s looking forwards to a few days away, and he intends to relax completely.

He was surprised when Derek suggested he bring something nice to wear as well as his now trademark plaid HSS shirts, but Derek just told him he thought they might go out to dinner somewhere nice on Saturday night.

So when Sam sees Derek packing a suit, he adds in the dress maternity pants that he’s made, and a black silk shirt made with tucks and panels and what Stiles calls  “sneaky magic stitching” to create a garment that’s definitely masculine, but also incredibly flattering. The first time he’d worn it to show Derek, it had come seriously close getting ripped off his body. He throws in a waistcoat just to bring the whole ensemble together, and calls it good. If Derek’s going to the trouble of wearing a suit, Sam can at least try.

 

Once they check in, they spend a large part of Friday in their room, and it’s not even all about sex.

It mostly is, but not _all_.

Some of it’s just relaxing completely, soaking in the giant bath tub, ordering room service, talking about the upcoming move, and debating whether they’re having girls, or boys, or both. Sam refuses to find out, saying he wants t to be a surprise.

On Saturday, as promised, Derek has booked them both into the day spa, and Sam spends the day having facials and leg and foot massages and beauty treatments, and by the time he’s finished, he looks and feels amazing.

He has a nap when he gets back to the room, still floating on the feeling of being pampered, and when he wakes, Derek is on the phone.

As soon as he sees Sam’s eyes are open, he ends his call, saying “See you then” and hanging up quickly.

“Just confirming the dinner bookings” he says, and Sam could swear he hears an uptick in his heartbeat, but he’s not sure, so he lets it go.

Derek  lays next to him and gives him a full body hug, and Sam’s hopeful it will turn into more, but Derek pulls back after a moment and checks his watch, saying ”We should get ready, pretty boy. Booking’s at seven.”

“We could be late” Sam suggests, running his hands through his hair and leaning back to give Derek a prime view of his body, but Derek doesn’t rise to the bait, not this time.

Sam reluctantly climbs out of bed and starts preparing. Since he knows they’re going somewhere nice, he pulls out all the stops, styling his hair so that it falls soft and loose around his face, the way he knows Derek loves, shaving with a straight razor so his jaw’s clean and smooth, putting a diamond stud in his ear, and  even polishing his shoes.

Which he then has to get Derek to tie for him, but still.

By the time he’s clothed in his dress shirt, waistcoat and black pants, he looks amazing.

Derek comes out of the bathroom adjusting his tie, and whistles in appreciation.

He nods at Sam, telling him “Damn, you look amazing. No wonder it was love at first sight.”

Sam smiles, wide and easy, and teases “First sight, huh? Well, I don’t blame you, honestly.”

Then he casts an appreciative eye over Derek, who’s wearing a classic black suit with a deep green shirt that brings out his eyes, and a black tie.

“You look pretty hot yourself, HBG.”

“Thanks” Derek grins. “Now shall I take you out and show you off, Mr Evans?”

“Please do, Mr Hale” Sam says with a wink.

 

* * *

 

Derek hails a cab, and gives the driver an address, but he refuses to tell Sam where they’re going, simply smiling and promising Sam he’ll like it.

They pull up at a function center instead of a restaurant, and Sam gives him a quizzical look, but Derek just puts a hand to the small of his back and guides him to the door.

When Sam opens it, there’s a loud shout of “SURPRISE!!” and the sound of noise makers, and there in front of Sam are all his friends and his fellow models,  beaming at him as they stand under a banner proclaiming “Congratulations!” in a room decorated for a baby shower.

He’s speechless, overwhelmed when he sees how many people are here.

Sam looks at Derek, and at the crowd of people, and back at Derek, and all he can manage is “How?”

Derek looks supremely pleased as he tells Sam “Drew Forth rang me, and asked if they could do something for you and the babies. I just had to get you here.”

“But, why?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Because they’re your friends. They want to celebrate with you.”

And in that moment, Sam realizes that he was completely and utterly wrong when he said nobody would care about his pregnancy, and he was even more mistaken when he said “Out of sight, out of mind.”

He underestimated how many actual friends he made in the industry. He never realised that his own personal code of ‘Don’t be a dick on set” isn’t that common, and that his colleagues genuinely appreciate that he’s a decent human being, and like him.

So he’s surprised and little flustered to see them all here. He comes close to crying, but he keeps it together, just.

He sees Drew Forth, who’s one of his favorite small label designers, approaching.

He asks “Was this your idea?”

“Sure was. Welcome to your baby shower, Sam. Derek was good enough to get you here so we could spoil you with overpriced baby gifts and laugh at your fat ass.”

Drew stops and takes another look at Sam.

“Mind you, I don’t think I _can_ make fun of your fat ass, looking the way you do. Who’s dressing you?  Because that, my friend, is a classy look.”

A photographer who’s standing nearby chimes in. “Must be Hilfiger.  Look at the lines of those pants. I didn’t even know he did paternity wear?”

“He doesn’t” Sam’s agent says.

“Is it Brooks Brothers?” she hazards, interested.

‘Versace, from the silk” someone else guesses.

Sam looks amused as he tells them “Nobody dressed me. There’s no decent menswear when you’re tall and pregnant.  I made it myself.”

A younger man, a junior designer from one of the big names if Sam remembers correctly, runs a finger down the side of the shirt, humming to himself.

“Oh, nice, I can see what you did there, that can be let out, expanding panels all tucked away, but it doesn’t look like a flour sack. And I’m guessing stretch banding on the pants, with a hidden waist extension tab?”

Sam nods, confirming “Exactly. Expansion without bulk, and no excess bunching around the waist area, leading to much cleaner lines. “

Derek stands and listens as the designers all start to talk with Sam, until finally he leans over and says in his husband’s ear “You know, I hear words coming out of your mouth, but I have no idea what they mean.”

Drew hears him, and says “They mean your husband’s a genius, Derek. But you’re right. Enough shop talk.”

And he guides Sam over to where they’ve set up for the shower, and settles him into the comfy chair they have for him, and they settle in for an evening of good humored ribbing over the fact they’re having twins, and food, and gifts, and cake.

Sam ends up with a pile of boxes, containing designer baby gear, two baby monitors, and endless blankets and throws and pacifiers and hooded towels.

He sits in the middle of it all smiling widely, and he mouths ‘ _Thank You’_ across the room at Derek.

Derek blows him a kiss, which results in a round of “Aaaws’ from the rest of the guests.

As the night wears on, Derek hears Sam expounding about the fact that there just isn’t any comfy, affordable, good quality clothing for pregnant men, especially anyone who’s as tall as he is, and explaining why he ended up making his own.

He shows them all the pictures Stiles took of him modelling the blue turtleneck and the tartan shorts and the other monstrosities, and they fall over themselves laughing. He swipes onto the next picture, and it’s of Stiles in one of his plaid creations and a pair of cargo pants.

“You said there wasn’t anything decent. What about that? That looks good” the young designer says.

“That’s because Sam made that as well” Derek reveals, proud of Sam’s handiwork.

The man extends his hand to Derek, and introduces himself.

“I’m Cody, by the way.”

“Derek Hale” he says, shaking the hand.

He gives Derek a business card, and says “Get your omega to call me. I think I could really do something with those designs, and I’d be willing to work with him.”

Derek looks at the card, and then hands it back.

“I don’t think so.”

Cody’s brow furrows.

“Why not?”

Derek folds his arms and fixes the man with a hard stare.

“He’s not _my omega_. He’s my husband, Sam Evans, male model of the year, and successful in his own right. If you want him to call you, do him the courtesy of asking him yourself. Go ahead, ask. But I’m pretty sure that since he’s the one who created the design you’re so impressed with, if anyone’s going to do something with it, it’ll be him.”

Derek hadn’t heard Sam approaching, but he feels his arms drape over Derek’s shoulders as he says “Hey, baby guy. Is Cody trying to get me to design for him?”

Derek knows that with his were senses, Sam’s heard the whole conversation, so he just nods.

Sam cheerfully tells Cody “Sorry man, but I’m kinda busy incubating at the moment. And besides, I already have someone I want to work with on my line.”

Derek doesn’t hear any lie in his heartbeat, and he turns and raises a brow at Sam.

Sam, of course, translates the eyebrow correctly, and tells him “Drew’s interested in going into pregnancy wear. I like him, and I know he does good work. He’s going to make some time this month and come visit, and we’ll see what happens.”

Cody scowls, and walks off.

Sam mutters just loudly enough for Derek’s wolf hearing to pick up “So there, Dickwad.”

He snorts, and kisses Sam as they stand there, to a chorus of cheers and whistles.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s late, and Sam’s fading fast, so they make their excuses.  As they leave, Drew  tells Sam “Let me know when you have the energy to look at working together, but don’t rush anything. You’re working on a far more important project right now.”

“And that, right there, is why I’m willing to work with you on _HSS Manternity Wear_ ” Sam tells him, grinning widely.

Drew laughs, astonished.

“Manternity? I like it. What does the HSS stand for though?”

Sam cocks a brow at Derek, as if asking his permission.

Derek sighs, rolls his eyes, and whispers in Drew’s ear.

Drew’s eyebrows rise to his hairline, and he snickers.

‘I know there’s a story there, but maybe we’ll leave it until Sam’s not falling asleep on his feet” he suggests, and Sam nods gratefully.

When they get back to the hotel, Derek rubs his feet as Sam winds down from the night out, and tells him about the interest shown in the concept of a line of masculine, affordable, well made, men’s maternity clothing, _including_ , he emphasizes, a range for the extra tall.

Drew’s not the only one interested in seeing his designs become reality, and he has a list of contacts who have told him they’d love to be involved if and when he decides to market them.

He’s feeling justifiably smug, and Derek doesn’t blame him one bit.

 

 


	12. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek's a little sneaky, in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I sat down to write this chapter, it was going to be a little update on Stiles and Peter.  
> My muse had other ideas, apparently.

 

When Sam wakes on Sunday morning, Derek’s massaging his belly and rumbling  for the babies, causing a flurry of kicks.

“Are you disturbing the peace down there, baby guy?” Sam teases.

Derek raises his head and gives a mischievous smile, showing his bunny teeth and waggling his eyebrows.

“I might be. I might have been waiting for you to wake up, and I might be shamelessly using our children” he admits.

Sam snorts.

“You know, other people _might_ bring their husband coffee and Danishes” he observes.

“But if I bring you coffee and pastries, you’ll want to sit up, and I’d prefer to keep you lying down” Derek says with a wink.

Sam hauls himself upright, says “Hold that thought”, and dashes to the bathroom.

Derek dives onto the bed while he’s gone, so by the time Sam comes back out,  he’s greeted with the sight of Derek laying across the covers, arm behind his head, stretched out naked as he purrs “Draw me like one of your French girls.”

Sam stares for a moment before laughing, and joining Derek on the bed. He leans in for a kiss, and then another, and then another.

He pulls back and looks at his husband, smiling softly.

“Hey, baby guy. Hoping to get lucky?” he asks as he runs a hand down Derek’s naked chest.

“With a pretty boy like you? Definitely” Derek responds, ghosting his hand over Sam’s nipples.

Sam’s starting to fill out a little, small mounds appearing on his chest, and they’re extra sensitive at the moment. The touch makes him shiver, and he demands “Do that again, Derek.”

Derek does, and then he leans in and starts to kiss and suck his way around Sam’s nipples, before pulling away to ask “So, I am getting lucky then?”

“Well you are _now_ ” Sam tells him, rolling onto his back and stretching out so Derek has access to his body.

Derek’s seen a lot of pregnant bodies in his work. He thinks they look fine, but he would never have said the sight of a baby belly was a turn on for him.

But that was before he saw Sam’s.

When it’s Sam’s belly, it _does_ things to him. The knowledge that _he_ did that, that _he_ helped create that life, _he_ helped cause that change to his husband’s body, sends his wolf side into a frenzy, and he just wants to cover Sam with his marks, and his scent, and claim him and the babies as his own.

And Sam damned well knows it, which is why he’s laying back naked, all stretched out and inviting, trailing his fingertips casually over the swell of his stomach and smirking.

Derek growls, before going back to teasing Sam’s nipples with his mouth. He managed to make Sam come just from that last night, and he’s eager to see if he can do it again.

He doesn’t quite manage it, but only because Sam drags him off by his hair and pushes him further down his body in an attempt to get Derek between his thighs, where he belongs.

Derek’s excellent at taking directions from his husband.

After what feels like hours of licking and teasing and fingering, when he's finally managed to make Sam beg, Derek eases inside, careful to keep his weight off Sam’s belly. He sits back on his heels and hauls Sam up his thighs, rocking in and out slowly.

Slow seems to be the order of the day, and it’s a long time before Sam takes himself in hand and lazily brings himself to climax. His breath hitches as he tightens around Derek, and the sensation tips Derek over the edge as well.

They lie there for several minutes with their bodies locked together, Sam rosy cheeked and panting slightly.

Derek pulls out finally, rolling off to the side, and Sam shuffles over and throws an arm and a leg over him, effectively pinning him to the bed.

Derek chuckles and kisses the top of Sam’s head.

“Comfy, babe?’ Derek asks.

“Mmhmm” Sam replies. “Need more sleep. _Someone_ woke me.”

“We should clean up first” Derek suggests, but he’s met with a soft snore, so he resigns himself to lying in the wet spot, and waiting for Sam to wake.

 

* * *

 

When Sam surfaces half an hour later, Derek has a hand on his belly, massaging gently.

He stretches, and Derek asks “Better?”

“Definitely. Breakfast?” he asks hopefully.

Derek nudges Sam gently to get him to sit up, and suggests “You go shower, and I’ll order.  Room service, yeah?”

Sam looks down at his naked, come covered body and replies “I don’t think I’m really  fit to go out, do you?”

Derek laughs, and grabs the menu.

Sam’s in the shower when he hears the ping of a text message. Derek’s phone, he thinks and dismisses it.

Then he hears it again, and again.

And again.

Curious, he dries himself and walks out of the bathroom to find Derek frowning and texting furiously.

“Who’s that?” he asks.

Derek’s head whips around, and he looks slightly panicked.

“Finished already? Breakfast’s on its way” he says, completely ignoring Sam’s question.

“Derek? Who were you texting?”

Derek puts his phone down and walks over to Sam, drawing him in for a hug, and sighs.

“I wanted it to be a surprise. I was talking to Phil, to see if I could swing a couple more days off. I thought we might stay the rest of the week.”

Sam’s mouth opens in surprise, and Derek puts one finger gently under his chin and closes it.

“You seem so happy, Sam. So relaxed. So I thought a little longer might do us good. What do you say?”

Sam’s face breaks into a wide smile  at the thought, and that’s all the answer Derek needs.

He calls reception and extends their booking through to Friday, and by then their breakfast has arrived, so they laze in the bed and feed each other bites of Danish as they plan the rest of their week.

 

* * *

 

By the time Friday arrives, they’re both happy and relaxed, and ready to go home.

Sam’s been massaged every day to within an inch of his life, they’ve been sightseeing, they’ve eaten at all the best restaurants, and made love every morning and every night.

It’s been a good week.

Just before their flight lands, Derek says casually “Peter said he’d collect us and drive us home, so we don’t have to get a cab.”

Sam thinks that sounds excellent, and he admits to Derek that he can’t wait to get home to his own bed.

“I loved the break though, baby guy” he says, as he nuzzles into Derek’s shoulder.

“I’m glad, pretty boy. You deserved it” Derek tells him.

“And now we have to start planning the move. Do we know when the house will be ready, exactly?” Sam asks.

“We’ll check with Peter tomorrow, tonight we relax” Derek tells him firmly.

Peter’s waiting for them when they land, and he piles the bags into the car and drives them home.

Except he doesn’t.

Sam doesn’t pay too much attention at first, tired from the flight, but about ten minutes into the drive, he frowns as he looks out the window.

“Peter, why are we going to the house?”

“I thought you’d like to check the progress, and it’s on the way“ he says smoothly.

“I think you’ll be pleased” he adds, smirking.

Sam groans loudly. “Honestly, Peter? I really just want to go home.”

Peter ignores him, and within minutes they’re at the new house.

They pull into the driveway, and Sam has to admit, it’s looking good.

Once Peter parks the car, he goes to the boot and pulls their luggage out.

Sam’s brow furrows.

“Peter, you still need to take us home” he protests.

Derek turns to him, beaming, and says “We are home, Sam.”

Peter opens the front door, and Sam does a double take.

Apparently, while he’s been off in LA getting massages and having record amounts of sex, the pack have moved house for them.

They’re all waiting inside, Scott and Isaac and Lydia and Stiles, even Noah, who’s holding his granddaughter in his arms.

There’s a huge banner saying “ _Welcome Home!_ ”

Sam’s frozen to the spot, mouth open.

 Derek explains “We figured you didn’t need the stress of moving, and everyone wanted to help, so I arranged with Peter to get it done while we were out of town.”

Sam just stands there.

“Sam? Are you OK? “Derek asks, concerned.

Sam looks at the fully furnished house, at his husband, and at his pack, and grabs the back of Derek’s head, dragging him into a heated kiss and refusing to let him go.

Finally Derek pulls away, laughing.

Sam starts laughing as well, saying “You sneaky asshole, Hale! Is that why we had to stay longer?”

Derek nods. “Peter texted to let me know there was a delay on the furniture for the other rooms.”

“Wait, what furniture?” Sam asks suspiciously.

Peter steps forward then, saying “Would you like to see?”

He leads the way, and Sam and Derek follow eagerly, with the rest of the pack trailing them.

As Sam walks though the house, he can see that there’s not a single box, or any sign that they’ve just moved in. The pictures are hung, the bookcase is filled, even the plants are in place.

It’s perfect.

Downstairs, he recognizes all their own furniture, as well as a giant modular couch that’s the twin of the one Peter has.

“For full moon nights” Peter explains casually.

When they go upstairs, he discovers that every single one of the spare rooms has been furnished, ready for use. The beds are all made with thousand count sheets, and the pillows and blankets are new and fresh.

The room earmarked for Peter and Stiles contains a luxurious four poster bed, of course, and has an ensuite bathroom.

The room next to it has been painted with a mural of woodland creatures and cartoon wolves, and contains a white painted single bed with a canopy, and a large variety of stuffed animals and toys.

There’s a sign on the door that says “ _Delilah_ ” in elegant flowing script.

And the room next to that’s been set up as a nursery, everything ready for two babies.

The sign on the door simply says “ _The Beans_ ”

Sam smiles at the sight.

Peter leads him through to the last two rooms –their bedroom, and their own nursery.

There’s Sam and Derek’s own familiar, comfy bed.

Everything’s been carefully unpacked, and it looks like they’ve lived here forever. Their clothes are all hanging in the wardrobe, and the ensuite bathroom is filled with their toiletries.

Even the book that Sam was reading is next to his bed where he left it, with the bookmark still in place.

And the room next door? 

When Sam walks in, it takes his breath away.

It was originally two rooms, but they’ve taken out a wall and now it’s one giant open space, somewhere that’s just for the babies.

The walls are freshly painted in a rich cream color, with trim of deepest emerald green. It matches Derek’s eyes, Sam thinks absently.

There are two cribs, side by side, with mobiles featuring tiny wolves hanging over them.

Two change tables.

Two giant stacks of diapers.

Two sets of drawers, filled with sets of tiny clothing.

One drawer has nothing in it but miniature versions of Sam’s beanie, which makes him laugh.

There are two rocking chairs, one by each crib.

And hanging on the wall?  

The picture that Sam loves, the one of him asleep in Derek’s lap.

It’s been enlarged and framed, and the sight of it is what undoes him completely.

He sinks into one of the chairs, and puts his face in his hands, breath catching in his throat as the tears finally escape.

Derek crouches down next to him, running a hand down his back, as Sam quietly cries, overwhelmed.

When he eventually lifts his head, his eyes are red.

‘I can’t believe you guys did this for us” he finally says, looking around the room at his friends and family.

It’s Isaac who says “Of course we did. We love you guys, you know?”

Which may cause Sam’s eyes to leak a little more.

He looks once more around the room, and says quietly “Shit, Derek. We’re having twins.”

Derek’s voice is soothing as he responds “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

Sam shakes his head.

“I mean I knew it, but seeing the room….”

“I know, I feel the same” Derek admits. “It makes it real.”

 

“You aren’t planning any more surprises this week are you baby guy?” he asks, voice hitching.  “Because I don’t think I can take it if you are.”

“No more surprises, I promise.  And this was mostly Peter, really. He organized everything.”

Sam smiles a watery smile at him, and breathes deeply, gathering himself.

Then he stands up and walks over to Peter, and lifts him clean off the ground as he grabs him, catching him by surprise. Even with his stomach between them, he manages to pull Peter into a bone crushing hug as he tells him “Thank you, man. This is awesome.”

Peter has no choice but to hug Sam back, until finally he says “You can put me down anytime, Sam.”

Sam does so, and the tears are gone, replaced by his breathtaking smile.

He thanks each and every one of the pack, picking them all up in turn and hugging them, even Noah, despite his protests that his back can’t take it.

Derek watches with an indulgent smile, happy that his plan has worked out.

He’s made Sam happy, and they have a pack house.

None of the others will live with them full time, but they all have a space of their own here, for pack nights and birthdays and Christmas and Thanksgiving and Easter and New Year’s, and any of a dozen occasions where the pack might want to be together.

His Alpha side revels in the thought of providing somewhere where they can all gather.

 

* * *

 

 

And after the last of their visitors leaves, Derek walks out to the front porch, and calls for Sam.

“Come out here for a minute?” he asks.

Sam follows him willingly, kissing softly up the side of his neck as he asks “Something you want?”

Derek  smiles, telling him “New house. I get to do this.”

And he scoops Sam up in his arms, and carries him over the threshold, bridal style.

Sam laughs all the way  up to their bedroom.

 

* * *

 

 

When Derek finally lets him out of bed, Sam ventures downstairs to the kitchen, hoping that there’s at least something to eat in the fridge.

He opens the fridge door, and stares.

It’s filled with row upon row of carefully labelled plastic containers, all containing homemade meals, just waiting to be heated.

There are also cold cuts, cheese, bacon and eggs, all the staples.

There’s a large selection of fresh vegetables and fruit, and a jug of iced tea.

When he opens the freezer, he sees that it contains a myriad of frozen desserts, enough  to satisfy even Derek’s sweet tooth.

Even the walk in pantry has been fully stocked.

Taped to the inside of the pantry door, there’s a note.

_Knew you’d be hungry, Sam.  Hope there’s enough to satisfy the spawn-Stiles_

It’s signed with a winking face, and there’s a P.S.

_Since I fed you, can you make me a couple more shirts?_

Sam laughs to himself. Of course Stiles would be the one to realize that Sam needs feeding.

There’s a black forest cake in the fridge, and Sam picks up the whole thing and two forks, and takes it back up to the bedroom, where he proceeds to feed messy mouthfuls to Derek, getting cream and cherry juice all over the sheets.

Well, they needed changing anyway, what’s a little more mess?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I tumbl now...  
> https://bunnywest.tumblr.com/


	13. Free Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is sick of Peter being so damned overprotective. I mean it's not like he's going to do something stupid, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, it's Derek's story, but Stiles did something.

 

The day starts so well, too.

Peter spends the morning rubbing Stiles’ lower back, loosening the muscles and draining his pain, before whispering the most beautiful words Stiles has ever heard.

“I’m taking Delilah out to the park, so you can get some rest.”

Stiles hums his pleasure, already half asleep. Lila had been fussy last night, and the babies had been restless, and Stiles is bone weary.

Peter kisses him softly on the forehead, saying “Sleep, sweetheart.”

And Stiles does, because at seven months, he’s as big as a house, and naps are his second favorite thing, after Peter fucking him senseless of course.

Peter leaves Stiles resting, and gathers up Delilah, a picnic blanket, some snacks, a backpack with all the other essentials for an outing with a toddler.

“Want to come to the park with me, princess?’ he asks softly.

She nods eagerly, and drags him towards the door. Peter follows obediently, wearing what Stiles teasingly calls his Daddy Face.

Something happens to Peter when he spends time with just him and his girl. There’s a special, almost reverent tone of voice he uses when he talks to her, and his face melts into an expression of absolute adoration, one that’s saved exclusively for Lila.

He _can_ say no to her, and he _can_ discipline her if the occasion calls for it, but he hates doing it. The few times he’s had to put her in the time out corner, it was harder on him than on her. And when she came up to him afterwards, saying “Sorry, Daddy” with a tiny sob, he’d wasted no time in scooping her up into his lap and assuring her that he still loved her, and hugging her until they both felt better.

Luckily she’s a clever child, and will generally do as she’s told - as long as she knows why. She’s  just like her Papa like that.

Peter and Lila walk to the park – it’s only a block, and she likes to walk – well, walk, dawdle, skip, be carried – and it’s not long before they arrive.

Peter finds a spot under a tree and spreads the blanket, unpacking their bag. Delilah helps, for a given value of help, anyway  - she corrals the snacks, placing the plastic containers in a row, in order of preference.

They’re regulars here, the handsome man with the pretty dark haired daughter, and a few people give them a wave. Delilah spots a small boy she often plays with, and after looking to Peter for permission, she races off towards him, arms waving, shouting ‘DANEDANEDANEDANE!”

Peter smiles, watching as Dane’s face lights up when he sees Lila.

She’s waving her hands and dragging him towards the sandpit, babbling, and Peter can see so much of Stiles in her at that moment.

Dane’s mother comes over, saying “That’s made his day. He loves playing with Delilah.”

She glances around, and asks “No Stiles?”

“Not today. The babies kept him awake last night, so I’ve left him to sleep. I doubt he’ll wake up any time soon” Peter replies, blissfully unaware of how wrong he is.

He stays at the park for several hours. He plays catch, and he pushes Lila on the swings, and he holds a palm out so she can gently hand him the bugs that she’s caught, and he sits obediently while she places a clumsily made daisy chain in his hair.

Finally, when she’s eaten everything in the plastic boxes, drunk the last of her juice box, and waved goodbye to Dane, Lila rubs her eyes, stretches her arms out to her daddy, and says “Home Daddy? ‘m sleepy.”

Peter packs up, lifts her onto his hip, and walks home, still wearing the flowers in his hair.

 

* * *

 

 

When Peter predicted that Stiles would sleep, he failed to factor in one important thing.

Two things, really.

He forgot that the beans like to tap dance Stiles’ bladder.

He manages to sleep for forty five minutes before he wakes, squirming under the onslaught. He holds out another five minutes before he’s forced to get out of bed and race to the bathroom.

And once he’s awake, he’s awake.

He waddles around the apartment, enjoying the silence – between Peter’s mother-henning and having a two year old, it’s not often that he gets to be truly alone.

Peter’s hit full caretaking mode, and while sometimes it’s sweet and lovely, like this morning, other times it’s just overwhelming, like when he insists on standing guard while Stiles showers, or snatches his snack foods away (“No soft cheeses, you know the risks with those”) or replaces his coffee with decaf, which Stiles thinks is just cruel.

But now, he’s alone.

He drinks two cups of coffee and eats half a camembert, just because he’s feeling rebellious.

Then he looks in the door of the nursery that Peter’s part way through updating. Delilah’s moved into her own room, and they’re redecorating just a little, to freshen things up for the new arrivals.

He steps into the room, and he has to admit, Peter has great taste - everything looks amazing. His glance falls upon a series of prints that are waiting to be hung – it looks like that’s the last thing to be done before the room’s ready.

He looks at the stepladder, frowning.

It’s such a little job, but it’s the sort of thing that won’t get done precisely because it’s such a little job.

The prints are sitting on the floor, temptingly close. He’d hate them to get wrecked.

He checks the weight restriction on the stepladder - he still comes under, just.

It’s literally hanging three paintings on three nails.

Surely it’ll be fine.

A tiny voice in the back of his head warns him that he’s courting disaster, but Stiles firmly ignores it, because dammit, he’s sick of being told what he can and can’t do. He’s pregnant, he’s not an invalid, but Peter won’t let him do _anything_ , won’t even let him lift Delilah for a hug, and he’s _so_ done with it.

He sets up the ladder, testing that it’s firm beneath his feet, before he picks up the first of the pictures and hangs it on the waiting nail.

Easy.

Perfect .

He does the same with the next two, carefully moving the ladder so he doesn’t have to lean too far.

It’s done, and it’s the finishing touch the room needed.

He grins, happy that he’s contributed something, and quietly smug that he managed it without incident.

That’ll show Peter for treating him like spun glass, he thinks.

Then, as he moves the ladder out of the way, he sees that the first picture’s not _quite_ straight. It just needs to move the tiniest fraction, so he steps back up onto the ladder and leans over to give it a nudge.

In doing so, he fails to allow for his drastically altered center of gravity.  As his fingertips touch the side of the picture frame, his body lurches forwards.

He panics, tries to pull back, and ends up tipping sideways off the ladder, landing heavily on his hip and twisting his knee in the process.

“FUCK!” he cries out as he hits the ground, arms instinctively going around his belly.

He lays on the floor panting from the shock of it for a minute, heart racing.

Fuck.

All he can think is _what if he’s hurt the babies_?

He rubs his hands across his abdomen cautiously, but the babies are kicking gently, unaware of their father’s folly.

Just to be sure, he sneaks a hand between his legs, feeling gingerly for any sign of bleeding.

He lets out a shaky sigh of relief when his hand comes away clean.

He lays there for a few minutes, recovering from the fright, and cataloguing his injuries.

Babies - good, but he checks a few more times, just to be sure that there's still no bleeding.

Shoulder - hurts like hell from where he landed, but probably not broken.

Hip – same.

Knee – shit.

Stiles’ left knee is purple and swollen and hot to the touch, and he can’t really bend his leg without pain shooting through it.

Peter’s going to kill him.

He attempts to stand, but there’s no way his leg will support his weight, so the best he can manage is to sit with his back against the wall, legs out in front of him, looking like a discarded doll.

He really hopes Peter comes home soon.

* * *

 

 

Peter comes home an hour later, and as soon as he walks in the door he knows something’s wrong – he can smell fear and pain.

Lila can too, and she scrambles out of his arms, calling “Papa?” as she runs to find the source of the distress.

Peter pulls her back, saying “Wait here OK, baby?”

He doesn’t know what’s happened, but the last thing he wants is for her to be upset by what she sees.

He follows the sounds, to find Stiles leaning against the wall of the nursery, crying in pain.

Peter can see the ladder on the floor, and he knows exactly what’s happened.

Stiles was only wearing boxers when he fell, so it’s easy to see where his shoulder and his hip are now a magnificent shade of purple from hitting the ground, and his knee’s swollen to the size of a melon.

He looks up and sees Peter, and starts crying even harder from relief.

“Peter” he sobs out. “I fell, and now I can’t move my knee, I’m so sorry”

He reaches his arms out, and Peter quickly goes to his side and hugs him.

He’s not sure if he feels  sympathy or anger right now.

But then Stiles shakes in his arms, and Peter’s wolf side takes over, his protective instincts going into overdrive.

“Shhh darling, I’m here now, let me see” Peter croons.

His mate is hurt, and Peter’s overriding desire is to make it better, to protect and care for him.

The anger can wait.

He quickly runs his hands over Stiles, confirming that nothing’s broken, and Stiles tells him that the babies are fine, and so Peter feels confident that draining his pain isn’t masking anything serious.

He lays his hands on Stiles’ knee, and the lines are dark and thick.  Peter can only imagine the agony that Stiles has been in.

He pulls out his phone and makes a quick call to Noah, packs a bag for Delilah, bundles her and Stiles into the car, and drives him to the hospital.

Noah meets them there, reaching his arms out for the baby. Peter tells Stiles that their daughter’s going to stay with Pop until they know what his injuries are.

Noah takes one look at his son, and says “What the hell did you do, kiddo?”

“Fell off a ladder” Stiles mumbles.

Peter’s called Phil, and he arrives just as Stiles is being transferred to a bed.

He comes striding into the room, and the expression on his face tells Stiles exactly what he thinks of his exploits.

He quickly examines Stiles, and concludes that his injuries, while painful, are mainly superficial.Nothing’s broken, his knee’s only sprained, and the babies are fine, much to Phil’s relief.

That doesn’t make him any less upset with Stiles.

“A ladder? What the hell were you thinking?” he demands.

Stiles shrugs. “It was only a small ladder?” he offers weakly.

Peter growls at him and flashes his eyes, unamused.

Phil snaps “I swear, if it wasn’t abuse of a patient. I’d be tempted to slap some sense into you.”

“There’s no need for that, Doc” Noah interrupts.

He hands Delilah back to Peter, leans forwards, and swats Stiles across the back of the head, hard.

“There. I did it for you” he says.

“Hey! I’m injured! That’s assault!” Stiles protests, stung.

Noah folds his arms across his chest, tapping a single finger on his Sheriff’s badge.

“Tell me Stiles, who are you going to report me to, exactly?”

Peter flashes red eyes at Noah.

“Now is _not the time_ ” he growls, and steps in front of Stiles instinctively.

“Fine. But we’ll talk about this later” his Dad promises darkly, and Stiles’ heart sinks.

“Oh, I promise you, once we’re sure he’s alright, my husband and I will be having a very detailed discussion about _why_ exactly he thought it was all right to put himself _and_ our children in danger” Peter assures Noah.

His tone is icy, and Stiles can tell he’s not going to enjoy that discussion.

 At all.

He tries to tell himself that it was just a mishap, it could have happened to anyone really,  and they’re all  being unfair.

He glances up at the three of them, about to accuse them of bullying him, but as he does so, he takes note of the unimpressed expressions on their faces.

And then he sees how very _scared_ the three angry men staring at him look, and he realizes just how stupid he’s been.

Because Peter and his Dad and Phil are _right,_ and he owes them an apology.

He endangered their babies and himself, just to prove a stupid point, and there’s no excuse for that. He should have never have done something so risky, just because he was feeling headstrong and contrary.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think…” comes out of his mouth, unbidden, and then the tears start.

It’s partly shock, partly remorse, but he can’t stop sobbing.

The three men look at him, and then at each other, their annoyance melting away in the face of Stiles’ tears.

“Aw, hell” mutters Noah, and he envelopes his son in a hug.

He pulls him close, and tells him “Hey, you did a stupid thing. Not the first time, and definitely won’t be the last time, if I know you. We’re just cranky as all hell because you frightened the life out of us, kiddo.”

Peter sets Lila down and crouches next to the bed, stroking Stiles' back, saying “Shhhh, Noah’s right sweetheart. I’m not angry at you, it’s just that you gave me such a fright. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, and I don’t ever want to find out.”

The two men comfort Stiles and murmur words of forgiveness, and neither of them can stay angry, because he’s so obviously sorry for what’s happened.

Finally Stiles’ sobs slowly taper off, and he raises his face from Noah’s shoulder, looks at Peter, and asks “Why do you have flowers in your hair?”

He reaches out a hand and brushes it over the wilted crown on Peter’s head where it’s been resting, forgotten and askew.

‘Lila made it for me, at the park“ Peter answers gently,  and Stiles carefully straightens it so it’s sitting properly, and says “Suits you” with a soft smile. Peter knows then that he’s feeling better, and that the tears are done, for now.

Noah unwraps himself from around Stiles, ruffles his son’s hair and says “You take care of yourself son, and don’t worry about Lila, she’s fine with me.”

He picks up Delilah and holds her out so she can give her Papa a kiss, before saying “You’re coming to stay with Pops for a few days princess, would you like that?”

Delilah nods happily, because she loves staying at Noah’s, and he grabs her bag and carries her from the room, cooing to his princess as he goes.

 

Phil sighs, and tells him “You were damned lucky, that’s all I can say. Now, let’s assess the damage properly.”

When Phil checks him out, he hums over the state of his knee, and tuts over his bruising, but he’s far more concerned that his blood pressure is much higher than it should be.

“It could just be from the shock of the fall. I’d like to admit you overnight to see if it goes down, otherwise we’ll be talking about bedrest” he warns.

He straps Stiles’ knee, and Peter stays with him and takes his pain as much as he can, and they spend the night hoping against hope that his blood pressure will miraculously go down overnight.

It doesn’t go down.

And so they’re talking about bedrest.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles crosses his arms as he states “No. You can’t.”

“I can, and I will” Phil tells him calmly. “Unless you want the babies to be born early. Surely you remember last time?”

Stiles _does_ remember last time, vividly. He remembers the panic when Delilah was born five weeks early, and he knows the doctor’s right, but he still sulks.

“I don’t like what your blood pressure’s doing, and your antics yesterday didn’t help.” Phil continues.

At the mention of yesterday, Peter growls low in his chest, and Stiles looks suitably chastened.

“You’re awful and I hate you right now” he grumbles to Phil.

Phil ignores him. He’s found it’s the best course of action when telling Stiles what he doesn’t want to hear.

“Look, the babies are healthy, but they’re on the small side. And seven months is just too early. Stiles, you’re so much bigger than with Delilah, you need to be taking it easy. I’m calling it.  Bedrest, and I’m admitting you for at least a week, while your leg heals.”

“And you will _listen_ to Phil, and do as he says,  understand?” Peter tells him sternly. He’s still hovering protectively, and Stiles really can’t blame him.

Phil looks at the pair of them, and says “So it’s settled. Stiles, you’re staying in hospital for a week.”

Peter nods in agreement.

“It’s for the best, sweetheart. I’ll come and see you every day, and it’s only a week” he promises.

“A week at this stage” Phil corrects.

“Given Stiles’ history and the fact he’s having twins, it may need to be longer, just to make sure he doesn’t go into early labor. I’d like him to make 36 weeks, at least.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get a private room. You can keep me warm at night” Stiles whispers into Peter’s neck, where he’s currently nuzzled.

Phil hears him, and shakes his head.

“Oh, I don’t think so. There’ll be none of that. In fact, while we’re here, we may as well talk about the fact we know that you two can’t follow doctor’s orders and stop having sex, so I’m going have to put you in lockdown again.”

Stiles groans loudly.

He knew it was probably coming, but that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.

Phil turns to Peter and asks “Would it make it easier if I caged you as well?”

Peter gives him a filthy look, even as he sighs and says “Define _easier._ ”

Chastity was no fun when they were expecting Delilah, and he doubts it will be much fun this time either, but he knows that really, they can’t be trusted.

Pregnant Stiles drives him wild, and the need to touch him, and be in him, is overwhelming.

Stiles doesn’t help the situation either, begging Peter to fuck him every chance they get.

Which was fine and dandy earlier in the pregnancy, but now that he’s getting closer to his due date, the risk of inducing labor is just too great.

Peter knew this day would arrive, he was just ignoring it.

Phil’s unapologetic as he tells them that come tomorrow, the cages are going on.

Like it or not, they’re going back into dick jail.

But Phil does at least put them in a private room with a double bed for the night, and he does strongly recommend that Peter stay with Stiles, so he can ‘drain his pain’. 

And he does instruct the nursing staff to ignore any noises they hear coming from that room, unless it’s the emergency buzzer.

He knows that with Stiles’ injuries, there’s only so much they can get up to anyway, and he’s not completely heartless.

 

 

 


	14. More is Better.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Peter struggle with bed rest.  
> Sam and Derek help them out.

 

Derek’s phone is ringing.

He tries to grab it, but he’s been pinned down by Sam, head on his chest, arms wrapped around him, and Sam’s not letting go.

‘Sam, I gotta get that. It's probably work” Derek tells him as he tries to disentangle his limbs.

“Nope.” Sam says, and wraps himself around Derek a little tighter.

The ringing stops, and Sam mumbles “Better” into Derek’s chest.

Derek sighs, and resigns himself to being trapped until Sam decides to let him go. He could get out from under him easily if he _really_ wanted to, but Sam’s so content that Derek doesn’t really have the heart to disturb him.

But the phone rings again, and again, and finally Derek sits up, dislodging Sam, and answers it.

“Hello?  Hey Peter. He what? _What?_ Is he all right?  For how long? Who has Lila then? Oh. OK. Is there anything you need?  Sure thing, we’ll go see him.”

He listens for a moment longer, before saying “You knew it would happen after last time. Doesn’t make it any more fun, though. Maybe we won’t get drunk this time, it didn’t work out so well for you” and Peter laughs before Derek hangs up.

Sam sits there blinking owlishly, but of course he’s heard every word.

“What the hell was Stiles doing up a ladder when he’s seven months pregnant?”

Derek just shrugs and says “Have you _met_ Stiles? He was probably trying to prove a point. Or he was bored. Anyway, he’s in hospital for a week. Peter says he can have visitors though. Shall we head in and see him this afternoon after your appointment?”

Sam stretches, and then nods.

“Sounds good. How’s Peter doing?”

“As far as I can tell, halfway between furious and relieved” Derek says.

“So, what else was he telling you? What’s dick jail?” Sam asks curiously.

Derek smirks a little when he tells Sam “Remember those wolf/human issues that we don’t have because you took the bite? One of them is that sexual release can cause premature labor.”

He waits as Sam catches up.

Sam’s eyes grow wide as he says “Woah, that’s rough. But its Peter and Stiles!  Those two are insatiable!”

“Yep” says Derek. ‘Which is why last time Phil caged them after Stiles nearly went into labor at 33 weeks.  And he’s doing it again this time.”

“Ouch” winces Sam. “Eight weeks. That’s a long time to be caged.”

He hesitates before asking “That’s.….not going to be an issue for us?”

Derek crawls back into bed with Sam and begins nuzzling at his neck.

“Nope” he tells him as he works his way down to Sam’s chest. “We’re both wolves. _We_ get increased sex drive, and _we_ get to enjoy it.”

Conversation stops for a while as Derek kisses his way down Sam’s body, and Sam spreads out on the bed to give him access.

“Roll over for me, pretty boy” Derek says when he finally lifts his head from where he’s been licking at Sam’s slick.

Sam hurries to comply, and Derek slides in smoothly.  He takes his time, and makes it good.

 

* * *

 

Afterwards, Sam confirms “So, we can definitely keep doing that, as often as we want?”

“As often as we want” Derek says smugly.

“God, I’m so glad I took the bite” Sam sighs happily.

He does have to get out of bed though, he needs a shower and food and coffee, and then he has his appointment with Phil for a checkup.

Derek makes breakfast while he showers, only lets him have one cup of coffee, and drives him into the clinic.

When they walk into the office, Phil stand and hugs him, saying “Look at you! God, I wish all my patients looked after themselves as well as you do, Sammy.”

Sam pulls away then, a pained expression on his face, and says quietly “Don’t call me that, Uncle Phil.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry Sam. It slipped out” Phil sighs, and he pulls Sam back for another hug.

Derek looks between them, confused.

"What gives, Sam?" he asks.

Sam sighs, and explains “My Mom was the only one who called me Sammy.”

Understanding dawns, as Sam smiles ruefully.

Derek nods. “I get it. It’s hers and yours. You still miss her, don’t you?” he adds gently.

“Yeah, some days. She always wanted grandkids, y’know?” Sam tells him, still curled against Phil’s shoulder.

There’s really nothing to say to that.

After a minute, Phil lets Sam go, and they share a sad smile as they remember their loss.

Then Phil’s all business, weighing Sam, measuring his belly, drawing a blood sample. taking his blood pressure, asking about his health generally.

“You’re literally a perfect patient Sam, you know that right?” Phil tells him, pleased with all the results so far. They’re just waiting on the bloodwork.

“Is it because I’m a were?” Sam asks.

“Well, that certainly helps. But part of it is that you’re using your common sense, and not doing things like climbing on ladders” Phil says with an eyeroll.

Sam shakes his head. “I still can’t believe he did that. Is he actually OK?”

“Go visit him and see for yourself “ Phil suggests. “I think he could do with the company. He’s bored, apparently.”

“Already? Peter said he only got admitted last night” Derek says, surprised.

“Yep. It’s going to be a long week for everyone” Phil sighs.

“But you” and he points to Sam with a smile “Are a picture of health. Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

Sam nods, feeling pleased and patting his belly absently.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. Did your ‘urges’ die down?” Phil asks nonchalantly.

Sam blushes, and threatens “Next time, I swear I’m getting a different doctor.”

“No you won’t. You’ve been seeing me since your first heat, and you always say that, and you never trust anyone else.” Phil replies with a laugh. ”Now answer the question, I need to know.”

“Really, Uncle Phil?’ Sam groans.

Phil shrugs.

“Really. Believe it or not, it’s medically relevant. I believe that part of the reason your babies are growing so well and you’re in such good shape is because you and Derek are forging a strong bond. So tell me, are you two still getting busy? Because for your twins, that’s excellent.”

“Wait, Phil. Are you telling me that for us, more sex is _good_ for the twins?” Derek asks, eyebrows raised.

“For you two? More is actually better” Phil answers.

Derek’s face breaks into a delighted grin, as he turns to Sam and repeats “More is better, Sam. Listen to the medical professional.”

Sam’s grin mirrors his own, as he leans over and kisses Derek, all tongue and intent. Derek’s taken by surprise, but he tangles his fingers in Sam’s long hair and holds him in place as he kisses him back heatedly.

They’re interrupted by the sound of Phil clearing his throat, and they break apart, flushed.

‘I said more is better, not please start making out on my office. I have other patients waiting, you know.”

He dismisses them with a wave of his hand.

 

* * *

 

 

They go and visit Stiles. As they approach, they can hear him talking to Peter.

Or rather, whining at Peter.

“I’m just saying, if you found me some crutches, I could go for a walk. I mean I’m sure Phil wouldn’t mind, exercise is good for the babies - ”  Stiles says.

“No.”

 “But Peter, I’m boooooooored.  Please can we go for a walk? Please? Just a little one?”

Peter looks up from his book and says “Which part of bedrest is unclear to you, Stiles? You’re in that bed because you were foolish, and now you have to live with it.”

Stiles huffs in frustration. 

“For your information, it’s not even my fault.  I’m on bedrest because of my _blood pressure_ , which is high because of having _twins_ , because of your damned _super sperm”_ he continues.

“I mean, I can’t help my blood pressure, and I don’t see why I should be punished for it. Bed rest is just torture. I’m pretty sure it’s going to end up getting higher because I’m so annoyed about being trapped in bed.”

He doesn’t notice that Peter’s gone dangerously quiet, but from where he’s standing in the doorway, Derek recognizes the signs of Peter desperately struggling to keep his temper under control.

Stiles carries on, oblivious.

“You know what? Find me some crutches. I’m going for a walk. I need to be moving.”

In a split second, Peter’s leaning over him, face inches from his, roaring “You stay in that damned bed, or I’ll tie you to it!””

“You can’t tie me to the bed, I’m pregnant!” Stiles snaps.

“That didn’t stop you climbing a damned _ladder!”_ Peter spits out, furious.

There’s a tense moment where their eyes lock.

 “You promised you wouldn’t mention that again” Stiles says in an icy tone.

“Well, you promised you’d stay in bed and follow doctor’s orders, so I guess we’re both liars!” Peter retorts.

“Sadistic bastard” Stiles mutters.

Peter doesn't reply, just picks up his book and pointedly ignores Stiles.

 

Sam looks worriedly at Derek, who’s rolling his eyes but doesn’t seem too concerned, so Sam knocks on the door frame.

“Um, is this a bad time?” he says from the doorway.

Stiles turns at the sound of his voice, and his face lights up.

“Sam!” he exclaims, holding his arms wide for a hug.

Sam leans in to hug Stiles. To say it’s awkward is an understatement, between both their stomachs and Stiles’ leg, but they manage it.

“Hey, man” Sam says when he pulls away.  “How are you feeling?”

Stiles sighs dramatically.

“Well, my blood pressure’s up, my knee's going to take at least two weeks to heal, and Phil put me in chastity. And Peter’s not even sympathetic. He’s just sitting here, making sure I don’t get out of bed, and enjoying my suffering.”

Peter raises an eyebrow.

“I’m hardly enjoying your suffering. I’m just making sure you don’t do anything foolish that might extend your bedrest.”

Stiles pokes his tongue out.

 “Soooo,  shall we come back later, when the war’s over?” Sam asks dubiously.

Peter and Stiles both deflate.

“Sorry Sam. Have a seat” Peter offers.

“We’re both a little stressed at the moment. Stiles doesn’t cope well with the restrictions of his last trimester, and neither do I, truth be told. We get a little snappish” he confesses.

And then he leans in and kisses the scowl off Stiles’ face, murmuring “You know I love you, darling. I only want what’s good for you and the beans.”

Stiles huffs out a sigh before kissing Peter back.

“I am pretty cranky” he admits sheepishly.

“How about I keep Stiles company while you and Derek go and get coffee?” Sam suggests.

Peter’s eyes light up at the suggestion and  Stiles is clearly on board with the idea, saying “Oh god yes,someone who won’t watch my every move and try and tie me to the bed, and I don't mean in the fun way. Peter, get out. Go talk about manly alpha things with Derek.”

Peter and Derek kiss their respective partners, and escape to the cafeteria.

As Derek kisses Sam, he whispers “For god’s sake don’t tell him about the sex. He’ll explode with jealousy.”

Peter catches it with his were hearing and arches a brow at Derek, who gives him a look that clearly says _I’ll explain later._

After their alphas leave, Sam pulls the chair close to Stiles’ bed, and says “So. Are you and Peter going to fight till the babies are born? Or just till you go home?”

“Probably till the babies are born, honestly” Stiles sighs. “He’ll get all protective now, and I’ll get annoyed, and then we’ll have to apologize, but we don’t even get make up sex until after the birth. It sucks. And I’m not even mad, just frustrated.”

“That’s rough” Sam sympathizes.

“And I’m going to be stuck looking at his pretty ass until that babies are born, and I won’t be able to do anything about it. And I already know I’ll be bored stupid at home, if they even let me go home.”

“It’s not that Peter does anything wrong” Stiles hastens to add. “It’s me. I need to be entertained, but if Peter’s the one entertaining me, then I get miserable about all the ways he’s _not_ entertaining me, if you know what I mean.”

He sounds downright miserable.

Sam looks at him thoughtfully, and pulls out his phone, shooting off a text.

A minute later he gets a reply saying

**_I was thinking the same thing, I was just about to text you and ask_ **

Sam grins.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek buys Peter the biggest, strongest coffee he can get, and a plate of sandwiches.

“Eat something, drink that, and tell me how long since you slept or ate” he orders.

Peter rubs a hand over his face.

“Honestly? I think it was the night before last. I don’t really remember.”

“So you might be a touch on edge, then?’ Derek asks gently.

“Oh, I know I am. When I first saw Stiles on the floor, I was torn between comforting him and throttling the little bastard. And I’m still annoyed, but now we can’t even make up in bed like we usually do, because we don’t want to induce labor.”

“Speaking of which, what aren’t we telling Stiles about?”

“Oh. Apparently, we’re building a strong bond and it’s good for the babies, so Phil recommended plenty of, shall we say,  intimate contact for the rest of the pregnancy” Derek explains, cheeks pinking.

Peter stares at him for a moment before stating “Well, that’s just unfair.”

“That’s why I told Sam not to let Stiles know. I don’t think he’d take it well” Derek says, smiling a little.

“Oh, that’s the understatement of the century” Peter agrees, smirking at the thought.

His smile fades quickly though -  he’s just too tired.

“Peter, how can we help?” Derek asks, genuinely concerned. “I know Noah has Delilah for a few days, but how are you going to manage to look after her and Stiles once he’s allowed home?”

Peter snorts. “Delilah’s not going to be the problem. It’ll be keeping an eye on Stiles. I really need another pair of eyes.”

Derek has a thought then.

Peter did so much to get their new house ready for them, and Derek really wants to do something in return, but he’ll need to check with Sam first.

Just then his phone pings.

**These guys can come stay with us for a while, yeah? We can help out with Lila and I can keep Stiles entertained.**

**If you want?**

Derek sends off his reply, and asks Peter “Would it be easier if you came and stayed with us for a while? Sam can wrangle Stiles easily enough, and we both love Delilah. We’d be happy for you to stay as long as you like.”

Peter hesitates, and so Derek adds “I mean, all the rooms are ready. Someone moved house for us. And I love a chance to repay the favor.”

Peter considers it seriously. “I’d have to check with Stiles” he finally replies.

They finish their coffee and sandwiches, and walk back the room.

Peter’s considerably calmer than before, and the first thing he does is kiss Stiles and tell him “I’m sorry for what I said, sweetheart. I did promise not to mention the ladder again, and it was a low blow.”

Stiles says “Pffft. Never mind that. We’re moving in with these two once I’m allowed out of here. Just for a little while, so I can be sensible and look after the beans properly.”

“I do care about them, you know” he tells Peter seriously.

“I never doubted that you did, darling. And yes, I think staying with Sam and Derek’s a wonderful idea” Peter replies.

The tension in the room dissipates, and Sam and Stiles spend the next ten minutes comparing their bellies, seeing whose babies kick more.

(Sam’s, by a country mile.)

* * *

 

 

Derek and Sam spend the next week making love in every room in their new house “for the good of the babies.”

The more sex they have, the more sex they want. 

They don’t even try to fight it.

“I love doctor’s orders” Sam pants, laying sprawled across the kitchen table.

“Uh huh” Derek manages, as he pulls out carefully.

He slowly eases Sam upright, and nuzzles into his neck.

Sam pushes him gently away after a moment.

“You realize we’ll have to behave once Peter and Stiles get here, right?” Sam reminds him.

“They’re not here yet” Derek says, waggling his eyebrows.  “We should enjoy it while we can.”

Sam laughs, saying “Yeah, maybe in a little while. But first, nap?”

Derek carries Sam to bed, uncaring of his increased weight, and lays him down gently.

“Sleep, sweetheart” Derek whispers against Sam’s temple, and curls up against his back with his hands splayed over his belly.

When Sam wakes two hours later, they do it all again.

For the good of the babies.

* * *

 

Even with the assurance that Stiles will be well cared for at Derek’s, Phil still won’t let him out of hospital until  his knee’s at least partially functional and his blood pressure drops, and then it’s only on the promise that he’ll stay in bed for another week at least.

It takes ten days, by which time _everybody_ is ready for him to go home.

When he gets to Derek’s, he expects to go up to his and Peter’s room, but instead he sees that they’ve set up the modular couch for him.

"No stairs" Peter explains, as he settles him in.

It’s made up as a bed, and next to it are books, dvds, a graphics tablet and a small bell.

Peter points and says “You ring if you need anything, OK darling?”

“But you might not hear me in this big house” Stiles worries.

Peter rolls his eyes.

“Yes, Stiles, Because in a house with four werewolves, we’re going to miss the sound of a bell ringing.”

“Oh. Didn’t think of it like that” Stiles mumbles.

Peter picks him up and scents him deeply, then groans and puts him in the bed.

“You smell so damned good, baby.  I’ll be upstairs. In the shower. The _cold_ shower” he sulks, as he heads up to his bathroom.

Stiles settles in with a sigh, and Lila climbs up on the bed with him, curling up so she can listen to his belly. She can hear the heartbeats as well, and it quickly lulls her to sleep.

Sam plops himself down next to Stiles, and grins at him.

“So. Now I have you trapped, I can unveil my master plan. I’m  going to design a line of Manternity wear.”

Stiles gapes. Sam hasn’t mentioned it up till now, so it comes as a complete shock.

“Wow. Are you serious?”

Sam nods happily. “HSS Manternity Wear. Affordable, practical pregnancy clothes that aren’t butt ugly. I have a designer coming down in a couple of weeks to talk about it.”

“HSS  Manternity“ Stiles snickers.

“You’re really starting your own line?”

“I definitely want to look at it, anyway. So while you’re here, you can tell me what features you want pregnancy clothes, and I can figure out if it can be done. Or we’ll come up with some designs for Drew to look at.“

He hands Stiles the graphics tablet with a glint in his eye.

“I can guarantee you won’t be bored."


	15. Shared Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems living together as a pack has advantages for everyone.

Sam discovers there are a lot of positives to living together as a pack.

He lived alone for years prior to marrying Derek, and he finds he’s forgotten how nice it is to have company while his husband’s at work.

He and Stiles sit and sympathize with each other over the terrible things their bodies do to them as their pregnancies advance, and Stiles teaches him a few tricks for dealing with his discomfort.

He learns that massaging his belly in a clockwise motion will settle the spawn nicely, and that a foot spa is his new best friend.

Peter’s an excellent cook, and since he’s not allowed to shower Stiles with physical affection, he satisfies his caretaking instinct by making vast amounts of food for them all.

Peter will look on, satisfied, as Sam and Stiles work their way through two chicken and vegetable pies and a chocolate mousse for dessert. It calms his wolf to see the members of his pack happy and well fed, and he doesn’t bother denying that to see the evidence of more pack members on the way thrills him.

And Sam’s always hungry, so he takes full advantage of the trays of muffins and mini quiches and pots of chicken soup that seem to appear out of nowhere.

His wolf hums happily at the closeness of pack, never more settled than in the evenings when Peter will curl up next to Stiles and Derek will curl up around Sam on the giant couch, and the alphas will coo over their husbands’ bellies and talk nonsense to the babies.  Stiles and Sam will roll their eyes at them fondly, even though they love every minute of it, feeling loved, feeling cherished.

More than once they fall asleep like that, Delilah curled up with them.

* * *

 

Delilah loves staying there.

There’s very little that’s more fascinating to a child nearing three than a belly with babies in there, unless it’s _two_ bellies with babies in there, and Sam will be sitting reading or sketching only to feel the tap tap tap of a small hand on his leg, and he’ll look up to see Delilah with her arms outstretched expectantly, saying “Babies?” He’ll pick her up and let her lay her head on his belly to hear the heartbeats, and she’ll giggle when the babies kick. The best days are when he lies next to Papa on the giant couch and they _both_ let her feel the babies.

She gets to be near her Daddy and her Papa _and_ her Alpha, and the timing couldn’t be better as her wolf starts to show more and more. She craves Derek’s scent, and he’s happy to hold her and rumble deep in his chest for her like he did when she was first born, even though she’s not really a baby now.

And now when it’s story time, if Delilah asks very nicely, she gets four stories – one from her Alpha, one from her Sam,  one from her Papa, and one from her Daddy.

Daddy’s is always last though, because he likes to read to her when she’s all tucked up in bed, and kiss the top of her head as she drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

And Derek?  

He loves coming home to his pack, to a house that’s busy and full of life.

It feels right somehow, and it gives him peace of mind when he’s working to know that Sam’s not alone. He often walks in to hear the sound of Sam's laughter as he and Stiles trade jokes back and forth, and it's the best sound in the world.

Plus, Peter’s food really is amazing.

It almost makes up for having to rein in his urge to fuck Sam senseless when he walks in the door.

 

* * *

 

Of course, there are a few adjustments.

 

For example, Derek and Sam abandon their habit of sleeping naked almost immediately, after the first night when they wake up to find Delilah climbing into bed with them.

When she wakes in a strange house, half asleep, her first instinct is to find Derek. She can hear Peter in the room next to hers, and she knows Papa is downstairs, but her wolf wants comfort, wants _Alpha_. She follows her nose, and wanders along the hallway until she finds Derek and Sam’s room. The doors’ slightly ajar, so she pushes it open and heads for the bed, scrambling awkwardly up and climbing under the blankets. She wraps herself around Derek’s back and gives a tiny sigh as she scents him, mumbling “Alpha” as she settles in.

Derek jerks awake at the feel of small hands against his back. By the time he’s awake enough to realize it’s Lila, she’s breathing deeply and is already asleep.

He nudges Sam gently, saying “Sam, wake up. We have an intruder.”

Sam opens his eyes and leans over to look, chuckling softly.

“She wants her Alpha” he whispers with a smile.

“Yeah well, her alpha’s _naked_ ” he whispers back.

Sam shrugs.

“She won’t even notice. She’s out cold.”

In the end, they let her sleep. When she starts to stir, Sam slides out of bed, Derek slides out of Sam’s side, and they both quickly pull a pair of boxers on.

Then they climb back into bed, bracketing the sleeping toddler. When she wakes briefly, she looks over to see Sam on one side of her and Derek on the other, and smiles happily as she snuggles between them.

In the small hours of the morning Derek carries her back to her own bed, humming softly to her as she burrows into his neck.

Soon, he thinks, he’ll be doing this for his own son or daughter.

He can’t wait.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles is bored.

Bored, bored, bored.

He tries working on the manternity designs, but he quickly discovers that he has absolutely no artistic ability.

He can describe what he visualizes just fine, but his drawings are truly sad. There’s actually one that’s a stick man with a bubble for a belly. 

In the end, he talks and Sam draws, and between them they get a nice little portfolio of sketches.

But the rest of the time, he’s itching to get out of bed.

Keeping him there is no easy task – he’s always ready with an excuse as to why he needs to be up and about.

Peter orders him back to bed, and Stiles snaps that when _Peter’s_ the one carrying twins _, then_ he can have an opinion on what the hell he should be doing. Peter throws up his hands, and tells Stiles “Fine! Go into early labor! See if I care!” before stomping off.

Then Sam has to intervene, coaxing and gentling Stiles into staying into bed, promising to sit with him and entertain him, and listening patiently as Stiles gripes about being kept a virtual prisoner by his husband.

Surprisingly, Delilah ends up being their best weapon in the war to keep him still.

She’s tiny, but she’s a tiny _wolf,_ and one of the characteristics she’s starting to develop as a werewolf is a protective streak a mile wide, especially when it comes to her pack.

When Stiles gets too twitchy or threatens to get out of bed, she climbs up onto the bed, holds him in place by aggressively snuggling him, and tells him sternly “No, Papa. _The babies_.”

And really, even if she wasn’t attempting to pin him down, the earnest look in her blue eyes would be enough to make him behave.

He does occasionally manage to make his way off the couch, which is how he learns that Sam and Derek are terrible at closing doors, too used to having the place to themselves.

It’s not deliberate – he’s walking back from the downstairs bathroom, going past the study when he hears the sound of Sam whimpering coming from within.

With his own recent fall fresh in his mind, he looks in the door, concerned that Sam’s hurt himself.

But Sam’s not in any pain – it’s quite the opposite, in fact.

He’s on his hands and knees on the floor, Derek kneeling behind him and rutting into him, and he’s making little sounds of pleasure, whines and whimpers and moans.

Stiles quietly walks away and goes back to the couch, pouting slightly.

Peter’s there, and when he sees his expression he asks “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are the Beans playing up?”

“No” Stiles gripes. “Sam and Derek are playing up, in the study.”

Peter quirks a brow. 

“I was coming back from the bathroom, and I heard Sam making noises. I was just checking he was OK. They're sexing it up without a care in the world, the lucky assholes” he grumbles.

“Ah” says Peter, as understanding dawns.

“It’s not fair” Stiles sulks.

‘I know, baby. But you know it’s for the best” Peter comforts him.

He helps Stiles back into bed, and starts massaging his feet. It’s the one area they’ve found he can touch without them both becoming too aroused. He moves onto Stiles’ calves, kneading out the knots, and Stiles groans in pure pleasure.

Peter breathes deeply, and hums at Stiles’ sweet scent.

“You smell so good, darling. I wish we could take this further” he sighs “But I think we need to stop now.”

He gently removes his hands, and draws the blanket over Stiles’ legs.

Stiles scowls, saying “Dammit, I can’t get the picture of Derek’s ass out of my mind now.”

Peter growls quietly at that.

“It’s a nice ass” Stiles adds.

 Peter levels him with an unimpressed look.

“Not as nice as yours, though” Stiles admits a moment later with a grin, and Peter’s face relaxes into a smile.

“It’s not forever, sweetheart. Soon the babies will be here, and I’ll be all yours again” he murmurs in Stiles’ ear, leaning in to scent him.

Stiles tilts his head back to allow him better access, and Peter takes full advantage, nuzzling at his throat and nipping lightly with his teeth.

‘’Not helping” Stiles says breathlessly, and pushes Peter away half-heartedly.

Peter pulls back reluctantly, and they exchange a look of shared frustration.

“I’m going for a run. A long, long run” Peter tells him, and gets up off the couch.

As he’s leaving the room, Derek and Sam come in.

Stiles looks at them and tells them bluntly “You both still have sex hair. And you need to lock the study door.”

“Next time I think Sam’s in pain, I’m not going to check he’s OK. I’m scarred for life by the sight of Derek’s ass” he continues.

Sam flushes a little, but Derek just laughs.

“You know how it is” he grins.

“Yeah well, just you wait till you get put in lockdown” Stiles mutters darkly.

The lack of response is deafening as Derek as Sam glance at each other and carefully don’t say anything.

Stiles looks from one to the other, suspicious of the silence.

“What?” he demands.

Sam looks at Derek. Derek shakes his head imperceptibly.

“Sorry, man. We’ll make sure to lock the door” Sam says, and then quickly goes on to ask Stiles how he’d feel about having a range of Hawaiian shirts in the most awful patterns they can find as part of their clothing range, neatly changing the subject.

Stiles is delighted at the idea, and as a distraction it works wonderfully. As he tells Sam, there’s a difference between butt ugly clothing and _deliberately_ butt ugly clothing.

Derek leaves them to it, and goes to see if Lila’s awake from her nap yet.

She is, and he spends the next hour reading to her as they wait for Peter to get back from his run.

He can hear Stiles and Sam laughing loudly together, and he’s cuddling his niece, and his uncle is planning to make Italian tonight, and Derek thinks that he couldn’t be more content if he tried.

 

* * *

 

Phil comes by every day and supervises Stiles as he showers, and takes his blood pressure, just like when he was pregnant with Delilah. After a few days, he gives a satisfied nod, saying “Your blood pressure’s definitely dropping, and your knee’s nearly as good as new. If things keep going the way they are, you can come off bedrest at the end of the week, as long as you take it easy.”

Stiles fist pumps, saying “Yesss!”

Peter grins widely, and rubs his hands over Stiles’ belly, saying “That's fantastic news.”

Stiles' bedrest has been wearing on them both, to put it mildly. He hates to think what it would have been like without Derek and Sam there to support them.

“I said if, remember” Phil cautions them. “I’d like it if you could keep the beans in there a little longer.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, saying “I know, trust me. I’m being such an adult, you wouldn’t believe it.”

Phil looks skeptical until Stiles adds “Besides, Sam and Lila won’t let me get up.”

Phil laughs at that.

He catches up with Sam while he’s there, and tells him that he’s doing everything right, and to keep it up.

“And don’t forget, the more sex the better” he adds, just to see his nephew squirm.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’re following doctor’s orders on that one” Derek tells him with a smirk.

They are, too, although they’re a lot more careful about closing doors, out of consideration for their guests.

Peter can tell of course, with his Were senses, but when he sees them coming out of their bedroom flushed and happy, he just mutters under his breath and disappears into the study with his laptop, and they’ll hear the furious tap tap of the keyboard as he deals with his frustration by writing increasingly steamy sex scenes for his novels.

 

* * *

 

It’s been three weeks since Stiles’ fall, and he’s finally allowed off bedrest.

Peter’s never seen him get dressed so fast in all his life, as he demands “For the love of god Peter, take me somewhere, anywhere. I finally get to leave the house!”

Peter quickly packs a bag for Delilah, and they go out to lunch, and then they take their princess to the park together.

Peter helps Stiles lower himself onto the blanket, and he just lays there with a smile on his face, enjoying the cool breeze and the expanse of sky above him. It’s chilly, but Stiles doesn’t care.

“Freedom” he breathes out happily, arms spread wide. 

“I’ve missed this, being out with you” Peter tells him, kissing him softly.

Stiles snorts.

“You’ve missed watching me roll on the grass like a beached whale” he says, skeptical.

Peter looks slightly hurt at that.

“No, really. I’ve missed taking Lila out together. I’ve missed seeing you smile like this. I’ve missed _you_ ” Peter insists, as he rearranges them so that Stiles’ head is in his lap and he can run his fingers through his hair.

“Sap” Stiles accuses.

“Definitely, when it comes to my family” Peter agrees, smiling softly.

The spend the afternoon just sitting in the sunshine as their daughter plays, enjoying each other’s company, arguing half-heartedly over baby names, teasing each other.

 Stiles looks across at Peter from where he’s spread out on the grass, and says quietly “I wouldn’t change any of this, you know? You, Delilah, the babies, none of it was planned, but it’s perfect anyway.”

“You’re perfect” Peter replies, leaning over to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

It’s one of the best days they’ve had for a long time.

 

* * *

 

 

They stay with Derek and Sam for another week, until Stiles insists that he wants to go home.

“Call it nesting instinct, but I kinda need to be in my own space” he confesses.

At eight months, he’s far bigger than he was with Delilah, and Phil’s keeping a close eye on him, because they both know that the twins could arrive any day now.

 

Once they’ve gone, the house seems awfully quiet.

“I liked having pack here. I’m not sure I can get used to us being alone” Sam says wistfully.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’m sure I can distract you” Derek purrs, draping himself around Sam from behind, and grinding against his ass.

“If you want?” he adds.

Sam feels himself getting wet in response, and grinds back.

“You stole my line, baby guy” he teases.

“And I want. I always want you.”

There’s no more need for privacy, or for locked doors, or for Sam to try and muffle his cries, and Derek takes great pleasure in bending Sam over the back of the couch and fucking him right then and there, coaxing all kinds of noises from him as he makes him come over and over again.

Sam has his head thrown back, panting and sweaty, and Derek can’t resist tangling a hand in his hair to hold him in place as he slams into his wet heat, timing his thrusts with the pulsing of Sam’s channel around him.

When Sam comes for a third time, whining at the overload of sensation, the sound sends Derek over the edge as well, and he groans loudly as he reaches his peak.

Sam lets out a satisfied sigh, and shudders at the aftershocks that travel though him. 

He slurs out “Alone is good, too.”

Derek chuckles, and lifts Sam’s lax body, helping him onto the couch.

He lays down next to him and waits patiently while Sam rearranges them so he has his head on Derek’s chest just the way he likes, and they stay there for the rest of the afternoon, naked and sticky and sex drunk and happy.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam rings Drew the following week, and arranges for the designer to come and visit. He wants to show him his and Stiles’ ideas, and see if they’re feasible.

On the day he’s due to arrive,  Jess comes over.  She leaves baby Andrew with Phil’s wife, because she needs a break and wants someone to bitch to, and who better than her twin brother?

She’s prickly and irritable, because her heat’s due in a few weeks, and she doesn’t know who she’s spending it with.

Since her last partner, she’s been reluctant to start another relationship, and has been using the services of the various alpha “dating” sites, but as she tells Sam “It’s such a crapshoot. I mean, you see photos of the guys, but you don’t know what they smell like, or if you'll even like them. It’s a pain in the ass. Don’t you have a nice alpha somewhere you can introduce me to, just for heat? Isn’t there a stray Hale brother somewhere?”

“Hey, you had your chance at a hot Hale, and you weren’t interested” Sam teases.

“Lucky for you” Jess shoots back.

“Yeah. Lucky for me” Sam agrees, hands resting on his belly.

They’re interrupted by Derek coming back from the airport , where he’s gone to collect Drew.

Sam drags himself to his feet, and goes to give Drew a hug.

Drew eyes go wide at how much his stomach has grown in four weeks, and he asks “Are you sure it’s only two?”

“Definitely only two” Sam laughs. “It’s just they take after their fathers, and neither of us is exactly petite.”

You’re both giant freaks, you mean” Jess tells her brother, grinning.

Sam flips her off, and she gasps.

“Is that any way to treat your only sister? Derek, keep your man under control” she sputters in mock outrage.

“Absolutely not” Derek tells her. “I wouldn’t even dream of trying.”

Drew watches, amused.

‘This is Jess, my sister” Sam says, introducing the pair.  “Jess, this is Drew. He’s interesting in working on the clothing line with us.”

Jess sticks her hand out and Drew steps forwards to take it. As he gets closer, Jess’ nostrils flare a little, and she looks at him appreciatively.

Drew’s not a Hale, but he has his own charm.  He has a runner’s build, and scruffy black hair that refuses to be tamed. His face is framed by dark rimmed glasses, and there’s something about him that hints that there’s a lot of fun to be had.

“Well, hello you” Jess says, waggling her eyebrows. “A pleasure to meet you, Drew.”

Drew scents the air subtly, and replies smoothly “Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, Miss Evans – it is Miss, isn’t it?”

“Sadly for me, yes” Jess replies, and she flutters her lashes prettily.

Sam rolls his eyes, and tells his sister “Behave, Jess. Drew’s here for work, you can harass him later. Let him at least sit down first.”

Jess pokes her tongue out at Sam, before turning her attention back to Drew.

“And you? Single?” she asks him.

“Yes. Yes, definitely” he nods with a gleam in his eye.

Derek watches them, and he smiles to himself.

He says “Actually Drew, I hate to do this to you, but I need to borrow Sam – would it be okay if we left you with Jess for an hour?  We need to go and see Phil.”

Sam looks like he’s about to argue, but Jess says “That’s fine, I can entertain your friend. And if he needs someone to drive him to his hotel later, I can do that too.”

And she shoots Sam a look that says - _Don’t you dare spoil this for me._

Sam’s wise enough to know not to argue with his sister when she gives him that particular look.

“Back in an hour, Drew” he says, as Derek leads him out the door.

As they walk to the car, Sam asks “Where are we going, anyway?”

Derek grins.  “We’re going to go and see Phil. And we’re going to give him the heads up that he’ll be getting a call from Drew about courting Jess.”

“You seem very sure about that” Sam comments.

“Sam, your sister was looking at him like she wanted to eat him alive. I bet they started making out the minute the door closed” Derek laughs.

 

* * *

 

They find out later that Derek was wrong.  

First Jess made Drew coffee, told him she had a small child, and asked how long he was in town for.

Drew asked to see photos of Andrew, and told Jess that he was there for two weeks but that he would be coming back often to work with Sam.

Jess considered his answers, and _then_ started kissing him, and it was at _least_ ten minutes after Derek and Sam left.

He never did get to drink the coffee, but he didn’t really mind.

And when Derek and Sam got home, there was a note from Jess saying

“ _Taken Drew to his hotel – wink wink. You can have him tomorrow, tonight he’s mine”_

Phil got a visit from Drew the next day asking for permission to court his niece.

 

 

 

 


	16. Right on time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles manages to make it to 38 weeks, and Phil rewards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! Have the first set of Hale Twins!

Sam gets off the phone to Stiles, laughing.

“He’s made it to 38 weeks, and he’s absolutely done. He’s calling Peter and Phil every name under the sun, and ranting about the unfairness of life in general” he reports to Derek.

“I’m amazed he made it this far – I thought he’d pull a stunt like he did with Lila” Derek says.

Sam makes a questioning noise.

“You weren’t around – he and Peter were both in dick jail, and somehow they managed to get together in the shower, and that sent him into labor five weeks early.”

“That’s how I ended up doing this for a living – Phil said having the baby’s Alpha there would help in case there were any health issues. Peter was an absolute wreck, so I sent him out of the room. After that, I talked Stiles through his labor, and it just came naturally.”

“You are very calming” Sam observes. He’s seated on the couch, and he waves his arms at Derek to indicate he wants to get up. Derek lifts him easily, holding him steady as he finds his feet.

Sam’s grown steadily, and at six and a half months Derek’s thrilled to see how his babies are thriving.

“God, Sam. You look fantastic. I love your baby belly-  it drives me crazy” he says in a throaty tone as he cradles Sam from behind.

Sam laughs, and leans back into him.  “I can tell. The look on your face, honestly. You look like you want to drag me to bed and pin me there.”

“I _do_ want to drag you to bed and pin you there.”

Sam grinds back against Derek, and asks “So, what’s stopping you, baby guy?”

Derek’s grin is feral as he replies “Absolutely nothing, pretty boy.”

 

* * *

 

Stiles really is proud of himself for following doctor’s orders and making it to nearly full term.

But he’s also huge, sexually frustrated, cranky, and tired .

They’re expecting Phil to arrive for Stiles’ daily checkup and shower, and Peter has his hands on his lower back, draining the aches and pains from his body.

He’s murmuring softly about how well Stiles is doing, and how he loves to see the babies growing, and how gorgeous Stiles is right now.

“Fat lot of good it does me being gorgeous. It’s not like I can do anything about it.” he grouses.

Phil knocks on the door and Peter lets him in, and Stiles sees the two men huddled together, talking in low tones.

He sees Peter spread his hands in entreaty, and Phil reply with a nod. He calls out “I know you’re talking about me, you know.”

Phil walks over smiling, and says “It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

He takes Stiles’ blood pressure, and then takes off his chastity device and says “We’re done here.”

“Aren’t you going to come and supervise me in the shower?” Stiles asks, confused, because so far Phil hasn’t left him alone because he doesn’t trust him not to come.

“Well” Phil starts.

“You’re thirty eight weeks. If I’m honest, you’ve made it further than I ever expected you to, and at this point it doesn’t really matter if you go into labor. And your husband’s very persuasive. He’s convinced me to let you out of chastity.”

Stiles’ face breaks into a grin.

“Does that mean we can –“ he begins.

‘Yes, Stiles. You can. Go wild.” Phil tells him, grinning.

“Oh my god, you’re the best” Stiles tells him, so happy that he’s almost crying.

And then he turns his back on the doctor and says “Hey Peter, wanna help me shower?”

“God, yes” Peter growls out.

He turns to Phil with a pleading look, and Phil quickly produces a small key and throws it to Peter.

“Have fun, play safe” he tells them, but they don’t hear him, too busy kissing passionately.

He lets himself out, and texts Derek to let him know to expect the first set of Hale twins within the next few days.

He has no doubt that Peter and Stiles won’t hold back.

 

* * *

 

 

Surprisingly, It takes Peter and Stiles most of the day to do anything with their newfound freedom.

After all, there’s the tiny matter of their toddler.

She’s napping at the moment, but they know it won’t last. 

Stiles breaks his kiss with Peter, and pants out “Shall I call my dad? For Lila?”

Peter already has his phone out before Stiles has finished speaking.

“Noah? It’s Peter. No, not yet. Any day, the doctor says. Of course we’ll call you. Actually, I was hoping you could take Delilah for a while? Stiles really needs to spend some time in bed.”

Stiles snickers at that.

“Really? You don’t mind? Excellent, I’ll bring her over, thanks so much.”

He hangs up and tells Stiles “He’s taking her for the week. He has time off” with a pleased expression.

Stiles’ eyes light up, and he says “So, you go drop her off, and I’ll wait for you in bed. Naked.”

Peter packs Lila’s bag and wakes her, telling her she’s going to Pops to stay because Papa and the babies are very sleepy.

She bounces excitedly at the prospect, and rushes to get ready. Stiles has no idea what goes on at Noah’s, but she can’t wait to go there. He suspects it involves an awful lot of sugar.

Peter heads off, and Stiles decides to shower while he waits for him to return. It feels so good to have the cage off, he just keeps running his hand softly over his cock, enjoying the sensations. He doesn’t do anything more than that though, not without Peter there.

He stays in the shower for a long time, but eventually he needs to sit down, so he turns off the water and climbs out. He dries himself, and then goes to lay on the bed and wait.

He’s so ready for Peter to fuck him.

But Peter takes a little longer than expected, and by the time he gets home, Stiles is deeply asleep.

Peter spends time stroking his belly and talking to the beans, indulging himself as he waits for Stiles to wake.

And waits, and waits.

Stiles sleeps like a dead man, and Peter knows better than to disturb him.

In the end, he curls up with him and dozes as well.

He’s woken a short time later by the sound of Stiles’ voice, and the feel of his hand.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much” he’s cooing, as he strokes Peter to hardness.

Peter looks down, amused. “Stiles, are you talking to my dick?”

“Well, I had to do something while you were asleep. I can’t believe you took a nap when we could have been having sexy times” he pouts.

Peter thinks about pointing out that Stiles was the one who fell asleep first, but he thinks better of it when he sees the hungry expression on Stiles’ face.

They can talk later.

He draws Stiles close and kisses him hard and deep and filthy, leaving him breathless, the way he knows he likes.

Then he pushes him back on the bed, and kisses him all over his face and neck. He gently worships his body, kissing and touching every inch of him, making him squirm under his hands and with his mouth.

He tells him he’s gorgeous, and amazing, and sexy, and that he can’t wait to be inside him, but his actions bely his words, because it’s a long, long, time before he even touches Stiles’ leaking hole.

By the time Peter’s worked his way down his body, they’re both desperate, but he won’t be rushed. It’s been six weeks, and he’s determined to make this special for Stiles.

‘I’m  so proud of you, darling, looking after yourself and the babies so well. Let me make this good for you” he croons, as he finally rolls Stiles over onto his hands and knees and licks delicately at where he’s dripping slick.

‘Peterpeterpeterpeter”Stiles chants mindlessly, driven wild with want just from the feel of Peter’s tongue as he works it in and out of his hole.

“Taste so good, baby” Peter groans, and continues to lick and suck and plunge his tongue into Stiles’ channel, eagerly consuming the sweet liquid there. It’s intoxicating, and he loses himself in the feeling and taste of his mate.

Stiles writhes and presses back, arching his spine as he chases more.

“Fuck me Peter, please” he begs, whimpering with need.

Peter positions himself behind Stiles and glides in effortlessly, and Stiles screams in pleasure, nerves blazing at the slightest touch after going neglected for so long.

Stiles presses back and urges him “More, I need more.”

Peter pulls out almost all the way and then thrusts back in, and Stiles again lets out a loud cry verging on a scream.

His head’s thrown back, and his eyes are closed as he moans in pure pleasure.

Peter drives in harder, faster, following the cues of Stiles’ body.  Stiles is shaking now, on the verge of coming after less than a dozen strokes, and Peter fucks into him desperately, his only climax only moments away.

He slams his hips forwards once, twice, and then one final time, a feral roar coming from his throat as he comes for the first time in six weeks and his wolf goes wild.

Stiles comes only moments later, whimpering and shaking and crying from the sheer overwhelming strength of his orgasm.

He continues to shake as aftershocks rock his body, and Peter can feel him clenching down around him, pulsing and hot and desperate.

He wraps himself around Stiles’ back and soothes him, stroking the back of his neck gently as he comes down, and then rolling him carefully onto his side and spooning him.

It takes several minutes before Stiles recovers enough to speak, and the first words out of his mouth are “Do that again.”

He looks positively blissed out. He has a dopey smile on his face, and his limbs are loose and relaxed.

“You don’t want to wait a little? You know this could bring on labor” Peter reminds him.

Stiles gives a tiny, lazy shrug.

"The babies will come when they come.”

Peter reflects that he’s right.

“So” he purrs as he snuggles up closer to Stiles.

“You don’t have any objections to staying in bed for the rest of the day?”

 “Not a single one” Stiles sighs, as Peter slots the head of his still hard cock against Stiles’ ass and rocks forwards, sliding in deep.

It’s been six weeks, and he intends to make up for lost time.

 

* * *

 

Phil isn’t surprised to get a call from Peter saying Stiles is in labor.

What surprises him is that it takes almost a week.

 

* * *

 

 To say it's tense is an understatement.

Delilah’s been delivered to her Pop, and Derek and Peter are facing off outside the delivery room as Stiles gets settled inside.

“As long as you promise to behave this time, you can stay, but if I have to send you out, I will” Derek tells Peter firmly, arms folded across his chest and body blocking the door.

“Oh please. I know what to expect this time around” Peter argues, his pose mirroring Derek’s.

The door opens behind them and Stiles stands there in his hospital gown, arms wrapped around his belly.

“You can come in, but if you pitch a fit every time I’m in pain, you’ll have to go” he decides.

Peter grins triumphantly and pushes past Derek and into the room.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine this time. I’ll be here for you, sweetheart” he promises.

As he strips off his shirt and settles himself and Stiles on the bed, positioned so that Stiles can scent him and lean into him if he needs to.

Stiles buries his face into the crook of Peter’s neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of his alpha, rich and heady, calms him, and he relaxes.

“Glad you’re here, Peter” he murmurs, and Peter shoots Derek a look that clearly says  _I told you so._

Derek rolls his eyes, checks that Stiles is comfortable, and leaves them for a few minutes to check in with Phil and tell him they’re ready to go.

By the time he returns, he can hear shouting.

“Get back on the damn bed, Stiles! You need to rest!”

“Are you the one having these babies? No? Then shut the hell up!”

Derek bursts in the door to be confronted by the sight of Stiles pacing determinedly around the room, while Peter yells at him to stop it.

“Stiles? Need anything?” he asks calmly, because the last thing he wants is to make the situation worse.

“Nope. Just walking the babies out” Stiles tells him, continuing to pace up and down.

Peter whirls and demands “Derek, make him stop. He’s meant to be resting between contractions, not doing laps.”

Stiles shoots him a dirty look, and says “For your information, I’m using gravity to help with labor. I researched it on the internet. It’s perfectly safe. Derek? Back me up.”

Derek watches, and hums.

“Is it helping?” he finally asks.

‘Yes’ says Stiles.

Peter makes an attempt to drag Stiles back to bed, muttering about pigheaded omegas.

Stiles bats his hands away, but has to stop as a contraction grips him. He rubs his hands over his belly, and breathes through it while Peter hovers anxiously.

“See? Look what you’ve done now!” he accuses. “That contraction was far too soon.”

Derek sighs, and tells him ‘”Peter, we want the babies out. Contractions are going to get them here. If you can’t watch, you need to leave.”

Peter looks torn. He wants to be here, but he can’t stand seeing Stiles in such pain.

Stiles lets out one long breath as the tightness eases, and Peter rushes over, rubbing his belly.

“Stiles, just get back into bed” he pleads.

Stiles places his hands on Peter’s shoulders and pulls him in as close as he can.

He looks him in the eye as he tells him “Peter, I love you. But I will punch you in the goddam face if you keep trying to tell me how to have my babies.”

‘They’re my babies too” Peter argues sullenly.

“Peter? Behave, or you’re out” Derek tells him firmly.

Peter sulks, but he stops trying to make Stiles lie down on the bed, and he has to admit that the pacing seems to be working.

Stiles does end up back on the bed when his contractions get stronger, and Derek coaches him through them easily, the two of them in sync.

Peter looks on, fighting the urge to challenge Derek for laying his hands on his omega.

He almost manages to hold himself back, too.

Right until Derek strips his shirt off so that Stiles can scent him. 

It’s standard practice for werewolf babies, the alpha pheromones making for a shorter, easier labor, and Peter knows it, logically, but when Derek pulls his shirt over his head and then Peter sees _another_ alpha, tanned and muscular, bracket Stiles from behind and place his hands on his belly, where _Peter’s_ babies are, his wolf sees it as a challenge.

He shifts and roars, and punches Derek in the face.

“What the fuck,Peter?” Stiles demands angrily.

Derek rubs his jaw and growls, just once.

Peter can’t help it – he growls back, and advances again.

Derek turns to him and flashes Alpha red eyes at him, before pushing Peter up against the wall and ordering “ ** _Out.”_**  

Peter whines as he shifts back, but Derek just points to the door.

“I’m going” Peter grumbles, his feathers still ruffled.

His shoulders slump as he leaves the room, and Derek sighs.

He follows him, poking his head out the door.

“Peter?”

Peter turns, half expecting Derek to chastise him again.

‘We’ll call you when it’s time, I promise” Derek tells him with a soft expression on his face.

“I’d appreciate it, nephew.  And I’m sorry” Peter says with a sigh of his own.

Derek goes back into the room, shutting the door firmly, and Peter’s left to wait.

 

* * *

 

Stiles is onto something with his pacing, it seems.

Between the walking and Derek coaching through his contractions, it’s barely an hour before Derek calls for Phil and Peter.

“I think it’s time” he tells them.

Peter rushes to hold Stiles, breathing with him and encouraging him as Phil conducts an exam and declares “Time to push, Stiles.”

Stiles is on his hands and knees with his back arched, and he’s already pushing, grunting and straining with the effort.

Derek’s on the bed with him, and Stiles is leaning against him.

Peter’s next to him and pushes Stiles sweat soaked hair away from his brow and offers him sips of water,  telling him he’s doing well.

‘Stiles, would you like Peter to deliver this baby?” Phil asks suddenly.

Peter’s head snaps up at that.

“It’s in position, one more push and we’re there. All he'd have to do is guide the baby out” Phil encourages.

Stiles looks at the hopeful expression on Peter’s face, and says “Go ahead.”

Peter’s eyes are alight with excitement as Phil guides him into position, and he’s ready when Stiles begins to pant and strain again.  As he screams and curses his way through the pain, Peter can see the head as it begins to crown.

“One more, sweetheart, the baby’s right there” he encourages, rubbing a hand over Stiles’ lower back.

Stiles bites back a sob, saying “I can’t. I just can’t.”

Derek holds him close, and rumbles deep in his chest. “You can do this, Stiles” he encourages, just like he’s done for countless other omegas in labor, and the soothing tone of his voice works it’s magic as Stiles relaxes against his chest  and he waits for the next wave.

It’s barely a minute before Stiles starts to whimper in pain, body tensing, and Derek tells him “It’s time, Stiles. One deep breath, and then one long push, just like we practiced, you can do it.”

Stiles hisses between his teeth, but he does as instructed, and pushes as hard as he can, his hands curled into fists, knuckles white where he’s gripping the sheets.

He keens loudly, but he doesn’t stop, he pushes and pushes until the baby forces its way out into the world. As the shoulders slip out, Phil guides Peter and he eases his second child into the world. 

She’s only a tiny thing, smaller than Delilah was, and Peter thinks that she’s the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen.

“It’s a girl sweetheart” he croons, as he holds the baby for Stiles to see.

Stiles is awestruck at the sight of his baby girl, and he leans forward and kisses her forehead.

‘Hello, Bean” he says softly, smiling as he surveys her delicate features.

The baby starts to squirm and cry, and without needing to be told, Peter scents her briefly before handing her to Derek, who holds her against his chest firmly.

She settles immediately, making the distinctive squeak of a werewolf baby scenting her Alpha. Derek makes soothing sounds, and his smile is wide as the baby burrows against him, trying to get closer to the scent of her pack leader.

“Ready for number two? It won’t be long now” Phil tells them.

Stiles can feel the next round of contractions starting, and he leans into Peter for support. Derek’s moved off to one side so he can take care of the first baby, so Peter takes his position on the bed.

‘Lila has a sister. She’ll be so pleased” he murmurs in Stiles’ ear.

Delilah has made it known that she would prefer it if Papa has girl babies, and it looks like she’s got her wish.

Stiles groans in pain as a contraction rips through him suddenly, much stronger than any that came before it.

Peter can see that Stiles is in agony, and he immediately lays a hand on him and drains his pain, uncaring of Phil’s protests.

“He needed it” he snaps.

“That was bad, Phil” Stiles admits. “Are they all going to be like that?”

Phil hums, and tells Stiles “I’ll take a look.”

He slides a hand inside briefly while Stiles grits his teeth, before stating “Everything’s fine, it’s just a much bigger baby. But this should only take a few minutes. Baby’s in a hurry, that’s why it’s so painful.”

“Did you hear that? Nearly done” Peter says, as he surreptitiously drains a little more of Stiles’ pain. Phil sees him, but Peter glares at him, daring him to say something.

Stiles moans in relief when he feels the pain leave his body, but the respite doesn’t last. He can feel the next contraction building, and he barely has time to grab Peter’s hand and squeeze before it rolls over him, engulfing him.

The contractions don’t stop, and it’s not long before Phil is urging him “Now, Stiles, Push now.”

Stiles shrieks as his body tightens and squeezes around the second baby, forcing it from his body. He wails and swears and calls Peter a fucking asshole as he pushes as hard as he can, desperate for it to be over.

He has a moment’s reprieve where he sobs against Peter’s chest, and then it all starts up again.

It takes five minutes of pushing and swearing and grunting before they hear Phil say “nearly there, I can see the head” but it feels like a lifetime to Peter, watching Stiles suffer.

By the time their son is finally born, Peter’s crying as well.

He has tears in his eyes, peppering tiny kisses onto Stiles as he coos “You were magnificent, sweetheart. I love you so much. You did it baby, twins. I’m so proud of you.”

Stiles looks at his son, and smiles widely.

“He looks like you, Daddy.”

And indeed, their son is unmistakably Peter’s. The baby bears far more resemblance to Peter than either of the girls, and seeing his features mirrored in the infant makes Peter feel warm inside.           

The baby starts crying lustily, and Derek reaches for him,after handing the baby girl to Peter.

While Phil cleans Stiles up and deals with the afterbirth, Peter and Derek swap and change the babies, taking turns  snuggling the infants close, until both of them have scented both Derek and Peter enough that their eyelids are fluttering closed and  they’re making tiny contented noises.

The nurse takes them to weigh and dress them, and Stiles tells Peter “I want to name our baby girl, since we’re having David Peter for our son.”

 “Anything, sweetheart. But I get a veto vote if I really hate it. Deal?”

Peter knows that he’ll probably agree to anything right now, but for the sake of his child he wants an out.

“Fine. I want to call her Rose.”

Peter’s surprised at that.

‘Didn’t we say no to Rose for Lila?” he queries.

‘That was Rose Tyler. This is just Rose, I promise. Besides” he says softly “it fits.”

The nurse brings the babies back just then, and Peter has to admit, it does fit.

Next to her brother, Rose looks tiny. David’s a third larger than her again, eight pounds to her six,  but Phil assures them that both the twins are healthy, and that they’ll probably even out over time.

Peter and Stiles lay in the bed oohing and aahing over their babies, until Stiles yawns widely. Peter takes both the twins and places them in their cribs so Stiles can sleep, and he spends a long time just standing there staring raptly at his new son and daughter.

“Hello, my darlings” he whispers to them, and David gurgles sleepily in response.

Peter finds it hard to drag himself away, but he has to go and see his daughter and give her a big hug, and tell her that the babies are here.


	17. It doesn't always go smoothly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles suffers a setback.

Peter sneaks the twins out of their cribs and gives them both one last hug, because he just can’t resist.

The realization that he’s become a father to three children fills him with awe.

He turns to look at his sleeping husband, and goes to kiss him on the forehead before he leaves, but he pulls up short.

Something’s definitely wrong.

Stiles is clammy to the touch, and his heartbeat is much faster than it should be.

He’s pale, almost white, and Peter can smell the coppery tang of fresh blood in the air.

He has a horrible suspicion, and he pulls back the sheet covering Stiles, hoping against hope he’s wrong.

He’s not, though. He can see a large bloodstain spreading steadily between Stiles’ legs.

“Stiles?” He attempts to shake him awake, and Stiles’ eyes flutter open briefly, before he closes them again.

“Peter? Hurts” he manages to get out, wincing as he moves.

Peter strides to the door, opens it wide and bellows _“PHIL!”_ at the top of his lungs.

It’s barely a minute before Phil comes through the door, and he takes one look at Stiles and says “Well, shit.”

He quickly examines Stiles.

“What’s happened?” Peter demands, frantic with worry.

“I’m not sure, exactly” Phil tells him tersely. “It happens sometimes, the uterus doesn’t contract enough. I’ll do an ultrasound to make sure it’s nothing serious, but I’m starting a transfusion regardless - I don’t like how much blood he’s lost.”

Peter looks on, helpless, as Phil sets up the transfusion, and then prepares for the ultrasound.

He stays close to Stiles, who’s drifting on the edges on consciousness, whimpering.  Peter takes his hand, and it’s too cold, too limp.

“Stiles? Hang on sweetheart, Phil’s here to help” he tells him, but he gets no response, because Stiles has sunk into unconsciousness.

Phil rubs the gel over Stiles’ stomach, moving the wand, and suddenly stops.

“There.” He says, and points to the screen. Peter has no idea what he’s looking at.

‘He still has some fragments of placenta, that’s what’s causing the bleeding. He needs a D and C, and he’ll be fine” he tells Peter, and then calls ahead to arrange a theater.

“What does that mean? Is he going to be all right?” Peter asks, and he can’t help it, he keeps a tight grip on his husband’s cold, unresisting hand.  He needs to touch him, to make sure he’s still alive.

“Peter, I have to take him. It’s a simple procedure, and it shouldn’t take long, but you have to let go now” Phil tells him gently, prising Peter’s hand away out of Stiles’.

And then two nurses arrive, and they’re moving Stiles to a gurney and wheeling him away, and Phil’s telling him it will be fine, but he doesn’t believe it, not for a second.

How can anything be fine with Stiles looking like he does?

* * *

 

 

Peter’s left standing in the delivery room, terrified.

He can’t stand still, so he starts pacing, going up and down, up and down.

Phil’s taken his husband somewhere and left him here.

He said it’s a simple procedure, and he said Stiles will be fine, but Peter will believe it when he sees it, and in the meantime all he can think of is how pale, how fragile Stiles looked as they wheeled him away.

He sits down and buries his face in his hands, holding back tears.

If he cries now, Stiles will never let him live it down, he thinks. He’ll call him a sap, and a soft wolf, and he’ll tease him forever.

Assuming he makes it through this to tease him about anything ever again.

He hears the door open, but doesn’t look up, too busy trying to keep himself together.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around him, and he finds himself drawn up and pressed against a firm chest as Derek holds him tight and soothes him, telling him it’s going to be fine, it’s just a standard procedure, that Stiles will be better in no time.

It’s the physical touch from his Alpha that pushes him over the edge, and suddenly he’s crying, great ugly sobs wracking his body as he holds onto Derek for dear life and bawls like a baby.

Derek just holds him as he cries, running a hand down his back and humming gently under his breath, until finally Peter’s able to get himself a little more under control.

“I can’t lose him, Derek” he says, voice hitching.

‘You won’t lose him, Peter. Phil’s the best there is” Derek reassures him. “Now, do you want me to wait with you?” 

Peter nods shakily, not even pretending that he’s OK.

Derek goes over to the small couch, dragging Peter with him, and they settle in to wait. Derek pulls Peter so that his head is against Derek’s chest, and he holds him there while they wait. Peter doesn’t object – physical contact is what he needs right now.

Eventually, Peter pulls back and looks at the mess he’s made of Derek’s scrubs, at the tears and snot and hair product drying there, and a strangled sound escapes him.

“Oh god, look at the mess I’ve made.”

Derek pulls him close again, telling him “Trust me, I’ve seen worse.”

 

* * *

 

 

That’s how Phil finds them half an hour later, when he comes to tell them that it’s all gone well, and that Stiles is out of surgery and recovering nicely.

He takes in the sight of Peter with his eyes closed, head resting on Derek’s chest, and he can’t help comparing it to his first encounter with the man, when he told him there was a problem with the contraceptive shots.

That Peter had been cold and demanding, and a little threatening.

There’s no sign of that man now though, and Phil thinks that he much prefers this Peter, the one who will shed tears for his husband.

“Stiles is fine” he says without bothering to dress it up – he knows Peter’s desperate to hear.

“Can I see him?” Peter asks, springing up. His eyes are still red and swollen, and he looks a mess.

“Of course. Although, maybe go wash up a little first” he suggests.

“You do look like a train wreck” Derek agrees.

“Besides, he’s still a little out of it from the anesthetic. We’ve stopped the bleeding, and transfused two pints into him, so he’s already a lot better, but he’s, how can I put this?” Phil hesitates.

“He’s what?  What’s wrong?” Peter immediately starts to panic.

“He’s having quite a strong reaction to the drugs” says Phil.

“What the hell does that mean? Is he throwing up?”

“He’s fine, but he’s stoned” Phil says bluntly.

Peter looks at him blankly for a minute, and then his brain catches up.

His mouth twitches at the corners, and then he starts to snicker.

“Oh, this I have to see. Take me to him?” Peter asks.

Phil does, and despite all his assurances that everything’s OK, Peter’s relief is palpable when he lays eyes on Stiles.

He grasps his hand, relieved to feel it warm once again, and kisses his knuckles softly.

‘Wait? Who’re you? You better put that hand down, mister, or my husband will punch you.” Stiles tells him.

He whisper-shouts loudly enough for the whole room to hear “He’s a _wolf!”_

‘It’s me, sweetheart, it’s Peter.”

Stiles frowns at him, before declaring “Nope.”

“You’re not my Peter. My Peter’s soooo pretty. Pretty, pretty, pretty. He has great hair” Stiles insists.

He pokes at Peter’s messed up curls.

“Your hair’s not great. ‘s shit hair. Peter’s hair, though. Like to grab it when he’s eating me out. And fuuuuuck, that neck. S’like a tree. Have you seen Peter’s neck?”

He addresses that last comment to Phil, who just nods with a grin.

“I promise it’s me, Stiles.” Peter tells him gently, also grinning.

Stiles eyes go wide.

‘PETER!!!  IT’S YOU!’ he bellows, making grabby hands.

“Wanna kiss, come here” he insists.

Peter leans in and is subjected to the longest, most uncoordinated kiss ever. Stiles is just licking in the general direction of his mouth, but he seems happy about it, so Peter just lets him go.

Stiles is alright, and nothing else matters.

Peter settles in next to the bed and listens patiently as Stiles rambles on for the next hour about how he loves Peter’s neck, and chest, and thighs, and how his cock is the best thing ever. He starts going into detailed descriptions of how good Peter is at fucking him just right, much to Phil’s amusement, but Peter just nods along and agrees, until finally Stiles winds down and falls asleep again.

“Best hair” he mumbles to himself, just before he passes out.

 

* * *

 

 

While Peter’s in with Stiles, Derek phones around and lets everyone know that the twins have arrived safely, and that there were some minor complications, but everything’s fine now.

He asks that they wait till the next day to visit, with the exception of Noah and Delilah of course.

So Peter gets to spend that first night with just him and Stiles and the babies, falling more in love with them with every passing moment.

Stiles flatly refuses to believe Peter when he tells him about his reaction to the anesthetic, and is mortified when Phil informs him that it’s all true, he spent an hour telling everyone more than they ever needed to know about Peter’s physical attributes.

Peter just looks smug.

“It’s all true, I’ll have you know” he tells Phil loftily.

Stiles grimaces as he admits “That’s the worst part. It actually is.”

“Sorry I told everyone about your dick. Love you, Peter” he tells him as he gently lifts Rose against his shoulder and holds her there, listening to her snuffle and squeak.

“Love you too, sweetheart” Peter tells him, smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek goes home exhausted, and Sam greets him at the door, concern etched on his face.

“Is he really alright?” he asks worriedly.

Derek nods against his chest as he wraps his arms around Sam’s shoulders and leans into him.

“He’s really alright” he confirms.

“It sounds worse than it was, honestly. He’s fine now, and the babies are gorgeous. Makes me even more excited for ours” he tells Sam, nuzzling at his throat.

“Wanna fool around, big guy?” Sam asks him.

Derek pulls back and says “Honestly? Not really. But I do want to lie down with you and hold you and listen to the babies, and remind myself how damn lucky we’ve been so far.”

Sam looks at him for a moment, and says “It really shook you, huh?”

Derek sighs.

“I just keep thinking what if Peter hadn’t checked on him, what if it had been worse, what if we’d been too late?”

“Hey, none of those things happened, Der. Stiles is fine, the babies are fine” Sam soothes him.

Derek pulls him a little closer.

“Peter was a wreck, and I don’t blame him. All I could think of was what if something happens to you?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m as healthy as a horse, and you said it yourself, werewolves have a much easier time. Now come and spoon me till you feel better” Sam tells him firmly.

Derek does spoon him, but there’s a thread of worry that wasn’t there before. He decides that he’ll just have to make sure Sam takes things easy until the birth, and when the time comes he’ll oversee his labor extra carefully.

 

* * *

 

Stiles stays in hospital for a week, and surprisingly, doesn’t complain once – he’s too tired.

Between the blood loss and the twins, his body’s taken a beating, and he’s happy to rest and recover, and spend the time bonding with the twins, or as he’s taken to calling them, R & D.

They’re so different, even at this age.

Rose is alert and curious, loves being held, feeds beautifully, and is all gurgles and smiles.

David is more placid, happy to lay quietly in his crib, and more likely to doze off while feeding and need to be woken and encouraged to eat.  His expression is serious, and Stiles swears he’s trying to do that thing Peter does with his eyebrow.

David gets excited when he sees Peter though, and he waves his arms and smiles for Peter, beaming widely.

“He likes you best” Stiles says, and he pretends to sulk, but really, he thinks that watching Peter with his son is the best thing he’s ever seen.

Delilah’s transfixed by her brother and sister, sitting carefully as the babies are placed in her arms, oohing and aahing over them, and stroking their downy hair reverently.

Stiles had been concerned that she might be jealous, but instead she’s completely taken with them. It helps that she can feel the pack bond, although she struggles to explain it.

“ It’s the babies, Daddy. In here” she tells Peter, pointing to her chest. “Like Derek and Sam and you” she clarifies.

‘That’s because they’re wolves like you, baby” Peter explains.

“Not Papa, though” she says.

“No. Not Papa” Peter agrees.

* * *

 

 

Later, he tries once again to convince Stiles.

“Sweetheart, you know that if you took the bite, a lot of your pregnancy risks would disappear” he starts.

“Nope” Stiles says firmly. “Still don’t want the bite.”

It’s a conversation they’ve had before.

“Besides” he adds “I don’t plan on having any more any time soon.”

“You didn’t plan on having any of the ones we’ve got, either” Peter points out wryly.

Stiles pokes his tongue out, and holds David a little closer.

‘That’s not the point” he huffs.

Peter tries a different tack.

“I’d just feel better if you were a little more durable, Stiles. I nearly lost you, and it kills me. If you took the bite – “

“If I took the bite, it would be a slap in the face to my parents” Stiles interrupts. “It would be saying that being human isn’t good enough.”

Shit, thinks Peter. He can’t deny that when Stiles puts it like that, he has a point.

Peter’s not deterred though, and he pulls out the big guns.

“Stiles” he purrs in a seductive tone, “did you know, werewolf couples are allowed to have sex the whole time they’re pregnant? Not only allowed, but actively encouraged?”

Stiles’ head whips up at that news.

Peter waits a beat before saying “Sam and Derek don’t get dick jail. I’m just saying.”

Stiles narrows his eyes and says slowly “Peter, are you trying to use sex to persuade me to take the bite?”

“I’m just trying to make sure you have all the facts“ Peter says carefully.

Stiles regards him steadily, his gaze assessing.

“OK. I have the facts now. ” he says coldly.

And from the set of his jaw, Peter knows that the discussion is over.

But he can’t help adding “The decision’s yours, sweetheart. If you ever change your mind though, just let me know. It won’t be easy for you, being the only human in a house full of wolves.”

‘That’s the whole point though, Peter” Stiles tells him. “I feel like our children need at least one person around who’s not a wolf  - how will they know what’s it’s like otherwise? How will they learn to control their strength? How will they learn that humans get sick, and break bones, and don’t always heal? How will they learn to care for those who are weaker than them? Nope, they need a squishy human, and I’m happy for it to be me” he declares.

He sees the moment that Peter gets it.

“You’re never going to take the bite, no matter how often I ask, are you?”

“Probably not” Stiles admits.

Peter looks downcast, and Stiles hates that he’s caused that look when they should be celebrating their new family.

And he has thought about the bite, honestly.

There is one circumstance where he’d take it.

He figures he should probably let Peter know.

“Of course, if my life’s in danger, then I’ll take the bite. I’ll even put it in writing. I mean, werewolf beats death any day, and I need to be around to see these little guys grow up” he says, rocking David gently as the baby coos.

Peter looks up surprised, and his face breaks into a smile

It’s the closest Stiles has ever come to saying yes, and for Peter, it’s enough.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam comes to visit Stiles, bringing with his the news that Drew’s looked through the designs they came up with, and done some costings, and he wants to go ahead with _HSS Manternity_.

He tells Stiles that it will be a while before they’re ready to start production, but it’s definitely all go, and Drew wants to pay Stiles for coining the term Manternity, because he says it’s sheer genius.

Stiles beams at the news, and asks if they’re ever going to let Drew know what the initials stand for.

Sam laughs as he tells Stiles that they already did.

He reveals that when he finally told Drew the story behind the initials HSS, he’d laughed for a good five minutes, and insisted on calling Derek Superman for the rest of the day.

“You know, I can kinda see a resemblance” Sam had said, grinning.

Derek had just leaned in and whispered too quietly for Drew to hear “If you’re lucky, I’ll make you fly tonight, Lois.”

Sam had had no response to that.

Stiles snickers at the story as Rose squirms in his arms, restless and hungry.

He pulls up his shirt and settles her in to feed while Sam looks on, awestruck by the way she latches on without hesitation and starts to suckle greedily.

Stiles glances down at his girl with a soft expression.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” he observes, seeing Sam watching.

“She’s gorgeous” Sam breathes out.

Stiles finishes feeding, and hands Rose to Sam, because he can see he’s itching to hold her.

Sam cradles her carefully, and his giant hands just make Rose look even tinier.

“Peter’s totally besotted” Stiles reveals, grinning. “And David’s the spitting image of him as a baby. I’ve seen photos. It’s adorable watching him with both of them on his lap. He just completely melts.”

“Derek will probably be just as bad, he spends hours talking to my belly” Sam laughs.

“The Hale men really are hopeless cases when it comes to their babies, aren’t they?” he sighs.

“Absolutely hopeless” Stiles agrees.

 Just then, Peter walks in the door.

He’s cradling David against his chest, talking to him softly, and looking more content than Sam’s ever seen him.

Sam and Stiles share a look, and both snicker.

"Your Papa and Uncle Sam are laughing at us, and we don't even care, do we, little man? No we don't, they can laugh all they want, because you're  adorable, yes you are" Peter coos, completely wrapped up in scenting his son.

“ _Hopeless”_ Stiles mouths silently at Sam, grinning from ear to ear.


	18. Pampered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's feeling a little down.

Sam’s wiped out.

Peter and Stiles came over last night, for the twin’s first full moon. The babies are two weeks old now, and it was the first time they’ve really left the house, mainly due to Stiles still recovering.

The rest of the pack were all there to welcome the twins properly, and spend quality time with them.

Stiles, Peter, Delilah and R & D (and as much as Peter rolls his eyes, the name seems to be sticking) sprawled in the middle of the giant couch as the pack passed the babies between them, all taking their turn at scenting and bonding with the newest additions.

Much to Scott’s delight, Rose took to him immediately, nuzzling up against his neck contentedly, fussing every time someone tried to take her from him, and it was only when she was hungry that he reluctantly passed her over to Stiles.

“Looks like you’re her favorite, Scotty” Stiles said with a wink, and Scott didn’t stop grinning for the rest of the night.

David is unashamedly and utterly Daddy’s boy, and it’s a sight to see when his face lights up as he scents Peter nearby and turns his head this way and that, desperately trying to find him. As soon as Peter picks him up, he relaxes visibly in his arms and makes a contented sound that he never makes for anyone else.

Peter’s understandably thrilled about it.

Sam stayed awake most of the night despite being nearly eight months along, and he spent his fair share of time cuddling the twins as well, practicing for when his own babies arrive, and just enjoying the contact with the pack. 

There’s never much sleep on a full moon anyway, and it’s something Sam wouldn’t have missed for the world, but it’s left him bone weary.

Phil’s adamant he won’t make it to term, given how big he’s getting – in fact, he and Jess have a betting pool going. Phil’s money’s on him making another two weeks at the most. Jess says he’ll last a month.

Sam’s at the point where his feet are distant strangers, fondly remembered, and his cock is completely hidden from view unless he’s looking in a mirror.

Sam just wants his body back.

He’s well and truly ready for the babies to be born, but at the same time he’s panicking at the thought of parenthood. 

Most of the time he’s ready for it, but some days, like today, when he’s overtired, it all just gets too much for him and he wonders what the hell he was thinking when he suggested having a family.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek’s just seen Isaac off, and when he comes back into the living room Sam’s trying to get out of his chair, and struggling.

“Dammit!” Sam curses under his breath, and he gives up and falls back into the chair with a frustrated noise.

Derek’s at his side in a moment, asking “What do you need, Sam?”

And Sam’s tired, and he’s frustrated, and he’s slightly terrified about becoming a parent, and it all catches up to him as he starts to rant.

‘I need not to be the size of a fucking house, Derek. I’m so fucking tired. I’m tired all the time, and I’m huge, and I can’t even get out of this fucking chair by myself, and I still have a month to go.”

He’s on a roll now, and he can’t seem to stop.

 “The damn babies won’t stop growing, and my tits are leaking, and I feel gross, and I’m too big to even wash myself properly. I mean, I can’t even see my dick, let alone reach the damn thing to clean it! And my hair? Forget it. I don’t even have the energy to wash it, and it’s a damn mess. It’s not like I’ll have any more time after the twins are born, I may as well shave it all off!”

It all bursts out of him in a rush, and Derek just stares, stunned.

The first thing out of his mouth is “Not your hair!”

Sam catches sight of his face, and at his scandalized expression, he starts to laugh, but it turns out he’s crying, because that’s another thing - he’s just so tired that he seems to have lost all control of his emotions.

Derek holds him as he alternates between laughing and sobbing, and when Sam’s finally calmed down enough to draw breath, he places a hand gently on Sam’s jaw and tilts his face towards him.

“You’re overtired, baby. Let me help?” he asks quietly, and Sam nods, sniffling. Derek stands and scoops him effortlessly from his chair, and carries him upstairs to their bedroom as if he weighs no more than a feather.

He lays Sam down on their bed, then closes the curtains and tells him “Sleep, pretty boy. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Something settles in Sam at Derek’s closeness, and he pulls him onto the bed with him saying  “Promise?”

“Promise” Derek reassures him as he settles them.

He sits with his back against the headboard and shuffles Sam around so that his head’s on Derek’s chest, and he goes to sleep listening to the steady thump, thump, thump of Derek’s heartbeat, and the feeling of his fingers running through Sam’s  hair.

 

* * *

 

It’s hours later when Sam finally wakes, and Derek’s gone.

He feels a little better, but he’s still fuzzy with sleep, and it takes a minute or two for him to get his bearings.

Derek’s side of the bed is still warm, and as Sam sits up he comes back into the bedroom, carrying a mug of hot chocolate.

He hands it to Sam with a gentle smile, and asks “Feel better?”

Sam nods sleepily, and asks “How did you know I’d be awake?”

Derek chuckles softly. “Sam, you asked me to make you hot chocolate five minutes ago.”

Sam’s brow furrows in confusion. “I did? I don’t remember. I must have been half asleep.”

He sips the drink and says “Sleepy me was onto something though. This is good.”

“I’m glad” Derek says, and just sits there watching while Sam drinks.

When he’s finished, Derek takes the mug from him and sets it aside.

“Talk to me, Sam. Tell me what’s going on” he says.

Sam looks at his earnest expression, the tiny furrow between those eyebrows that means Derek’s genuinely concerned, and he pats the bed and says “Get back in here, and I can tell you all my stupid fears while you hold me.”

“If you want?” he adds.

Derek climbs back into bed and wraps Sam in his arms, saying “I always want, Sam. Tell me all your stupid fears, OK?”

They talk.

Sam rambles on about his fears that he won’t cope with being a parent, that he’s too selfish.

His fear that Derek will think less of him if he can’t cope.

His fear that his body is never, ever going to be the same again.

About his sudden realization that his vague thought that he might go back to modeling probably isn’t realistic -  he’s not even sure if he’ll be able to leave the house, has Derek seen how many bags Peter and Stiles had to bring just for one night?  


Derek listens, and he doesn’t interrupt, just makes reassuring noises and strokes Sam’s back and plays with his hair as Sam unloads all of his worries.

Sam winds down slowly, before pulling back and looking at Derek, with a wry smile, saying “Pretty stupid, huh?”

“Sam, parenthood’s a big deal. It’s natural to be worried. Hell, you wouldn’t believe some of the things I’m worried about. But we’re doing this together, pretty boy, and I’m here every step of the way.”

Sam sighs.

“I know, and I appreciate it. It just all gets too much sometimes.”

“Let me help you relax” Derek says, and for a minute Sam thinks he’s going to suggest sex, but instead he helps Sam out of bed and undresses him.

He disappears into the bathroom and Sam hears the shower start up, and then Derek’s undressing as well, and leading Sam towards the bathroom.

Sam sees that he’s put the chair back in the shower, and he starts to protest, saying “I’m not that big Derek, I can still stand” but Derek tells him gently “It’s so I can wash your hair, baby. You’re too damned tall otherwise. Let me take care of you?”

Sam sees the look of sheer devotion on Derek’s face and nods dumbly.

Derek sits Sam down, and starts to worship him.

 

* * *

 

The water’s the perfect temperature; hot enough to relax Sam’s tense muscles, but not so hot that it’s painful.

As the first jets of water hit his body he makes a pleased sound. Derek tilts his head so it’s under the spray and wets his chestnut locks, and then he starts to work the shampoo into a lather.

Sam sighs with unabashed pleasure as Derek washes his hair, running his thick fingers through it gently, easing out the tangles.

Derek massages his head expertly, and he can feel the tension leaving his body.

Derek’s humming as he washes him, some half-forgotten tune that Sam vaguely recognizes, but he doesn’t have the brain power to figure out what it is at the moment, too lost in the pleasure of Derek’s hands on his scalp.

He tilts his head back obediently when Derek directs him, allowing the spray of water to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

Then Derek does it all again, only with conditioner.

By the time he’s done, Sam’s fighting to keep his eyes open, drifting gently as he soaks in the sensation of Derek’s hands on him, and the scent of his alpha, and the warmth of the water as it washes away his stress along with the conditioner.

“All nice and clean, baby.  Shall I do the rest of you?” Derek asks softly, and Sam opens his eyes to see him gazing lovingly down at him and soaping up a wash cloth.

“Please” he nods, and closes his eyes again as Derek starts to rub the lather over his body.

Sam feels pampered, there’s no other word for it.

Derek’s touch is firm and sure against Sam’s body, and Sam draws comfort from it.

It reminds him that his husband is always there for him, always supportive.

As Derek bathes him, he continues to hum, and the song soothes Sam, even though he can't quite place it.

Derek’s hands move gently every inch of his chest, fingers brushing his nipples as the washcloth moves back and forth, removing the sweat and dirt of the day.

Derek pays extra attention to his massive belly, washing it reverently before moving on to his back. Sam lifts his arms so Derek can wash under them, and then stands so Derek can reach his ass and wash that too. He rubs his broad palms over the area, squeezing once as he cleans.

Then Derek kneels in front of him, and starts soaping up his cock and balls, but it’s not sexual. It’s more intimate than that.

His hand moves steadily as he cleans Sam’s shaft, and he washes his balls thoroughly, making sure to keep his touch light on the sensitive flesh.

Once he’s carefully cleaned between his legs he travels further down his body, keeping up a litany of praise as he does so.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, you know that? How did I ever get so lucky? You’re so gorgeous like this, and I love you, and I can’t believe you love me back. I never thought there was anybody out there for me, but here you are” he rambles, lost in his exploration of Sam’s body.

Sam moans softly at the sensation of the washcloth as it travels down his inner thighs, and Derek smiles, and leans in and places a kiss there.  He starts moving  south again, making his way down to Sam’s feet before guiding him to sit in the chair again. He lifts one foot and washes it, using his strong thumbs to massage the balls of Sam’s feet, earning him a blissed out groan from Sam. He does the same to the other foot, and finally, he’s done.

Sam’s eyes are closed, and he’s smiling, feeling better than he has in days. He feels relaxed, and refreshed, and _loved._

Derek drops the cloth with a wet plop on the shower floor, and then leans forwards from where he’s kneeling and starts kissing Sam’s pregnant stomach softly, placing his hands there so he can feel the babies moving.

“You’re  amazing” he murmurs against Sam’s skin.

”Are you talking to me or the babies?” Sam asks sleepily, his speech thick as he fights his drowsiness in an effort to form words.

“You. Always you” Derek tells him, getting to his feet and guiding Sam up.

He gets a towel and dries Sam carefully before leading him from the bathroom and settling him on the recliner that they have in the bedroom.

Then Derek brings the hairbrush and the drier from the bathroom, and spends the next ten minutes brushing Sam’s hair carefully and styling it until it shines and bounces and looks and feels amazing.

Sam looks in the mirror and smiles.

“I actually feel human again, Derek. Thank you” he says sincerely.

“Anything for you, baby” Derek replies as he guides him back to bed.

“We’re staying here today. We both need the sleep after last night.”

“Mhm” Sam mumbles, as he settles in to nap again.

Derek spoons up behind him, scenting his neck, and within minutes they’re both solidly asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

The second time Sam wakes, he feels much brighter. He can feel something tickling his neck, and it takes him a moment to realise that it’s Derek, playing with his curls.

“You love my hair” he says smugly.

“Damn right. Love all of you” Derek replies, and continues to run his fingers through the freshly washed strands.

Sam pulls away, but only because he desperately needs to pee.

“Be right back” he tells Derek as he slides out of bed and waddles to the bathroom.

He pees, and when he makes his way back to bed, Derek’s not there, but Sam can hear him in the kitchen. He debates joining him but as if he can sense his thoughts Derek calls out “Stay there, I’ll bring it to you.”

Sam slips on some boxers and climbs back into bed, and it’s not long before Derek’s there carrying a tray with grilled cheese sandwiches for both of them.

Sam hadn’t realised how hungry he was, but the sight and smell of the food reminds him that he  hasn’t eaten since last night, and he attacks his plate with gusto.

Derek does the same, and before long there’s nothing left but a scattering of toast crumbs.

Derek reaches out and rubs his thumb along Sam’s bottom lip, catching a smear of butter there. He starts to hum that damned song again as he does so, and now that Sam’s more awake, he almost recognizes it.

“Derek, what’s that tune?” he asks. “You’ve been humming it all day.”

Derek moves their plates to the side, cups Sam’s jaw in his hand, and looks at him tenderly as he starts to sing properly.

And as the first words leave his mouth, Sam recognizes it instantly.

It’s an old Paul Anka song, and Sam always thought it was cheesy as hell, except that when it’s Derek singing to him, it’s not.

 _You’re having my baby_  
What a lovely way of saying  
How much you love me.

Derek croons

 _Having my baby_  
What a lovely way of saying  
What you're thinking of me.

Sam’s face breaks into a smile as he listens to Derek serenade him, and then Derek has to stop singing because Sam’s kissing him.

“That’s a terrible song. The worst. So damn cheesy” Sam mutters, between gentle pecks.

“Don’t care. I mean it” Derek mutters back, as he wraps his hands around the back of Sam’s head and pulls him closer.

Then Derek’s kissing him back passionately, and suddenly Sam isn’t tired any more.

He loses himself in the feel of Derek’s lips, in the taste of him, in the scent of his arousal. He relishes the feel of Derek’s skin under his palm as he slips a hand down and starts to stroke his cock to hardness.

Derek pulls back, breathing raggedly, and Sam’s cock gives a twitch of its own at the hungry gleam in his eye.

“You spent all that time getting me nice and clean. Wanna get me dirty again?” Sam teases.

Derek leans in and growls in his ear “Sam, I’m going to get us both absolutely _filthy_.”

Sam laughs, a genuine laugh, and Derek relishes the sound, because it means his pretty boy’s feeling good.

Derek spends the rest of the afternoon making him feel even better.

 

* * *

 

 

Later, as Sam steps out of the shower, he looks in the mirror.

He’s  fucking massive.

He’s having twins any day now, and he can’t see his feet or his dick.

He’ll probably never get his body back to the way it was.

But suddenly, he doesn’t really mind.


	19. Perfect.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Sam's babies arrive.

The thing that Sam never thought would happen has finally happened.

Derek rolls over towards him upon waking, looking deliciously sleep rumpled and attractive, and Sam feels…..absolutely no desire to sleep with him.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Derek asks him, voice still rough from sleep.

He leans in and gives Sam a gentle peck, and slides a hand over the swell of his hip.

Normally Sam would pull him in for another kiss, and arch into his touch, and it would all snowball from there, but today the thought of maneuvering his body into any position where he could have sex just exhausts him.

Sam sighs, and says “It’s happened, Derek. I think I’m finally too fat to fuck.”

Derek just lays his head on Sam’s huge belly and smiles.

“I’m not surprised, baby. You’ve only got three and a half weeks to go.”

Sam shuffles around in the bed, finally managing to sit up.  Derek supports him as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and goes to use the bathroom, a hand on the small of his back as he walks.

“Wanna stay in bed today?” Derek asks.

Sam shakes his head.

“Drew’s in town, and he says he has a surprise. He’s coming over later, which means Jess will be coming over, and Stiles is coming as well, to talk about marketing.”

Stiles has offered to invest in their line, as long as he gets to help with the publicity. Given the runaway success of his book, and the fact that since he’s started handling the publicity for Peter’s books his sales have doubled, Drew’s been quick to agree.

Derek helps Sam shower and dress, and they head down for breakfast. Sam follows Derek down the stairs, and sighs wistfully.

“I’m looking at your ass, Der, and it looks so damn good. Part of me wants to get my hands on it, but the rest of me just doesn’t have the energy. What a waste” he says, throwing his arm dramatically over his eyes.

“Tell you what, after we eat, I’ll stand in front of you naked and you can play with my ass all you want” Derek promises with a smile.

Sam smiles brightly at the prospect.

“Just because I’m too big for sex doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the finer things in life” he says as he waggles his eyebrows, and Derek laughs.

True to his word, Derek strips down and lets Sam run his hands all over him, and it turns out that Sam sitting down is exactly the right height to blow Derek standing up.

Derek’s still laying on the couch recovering, wearing nothing but a satisfied grin, when Drew knocks on the door.

They hear Jess calling out “You two better be wearing pants, I swear to god….”

Sam hauls himself off the couch and walks over slowly to answer the door while Derek hastily puts his jeans on, but he’s still shirtless when his guests walk in.

Drew can’t help but look him over appreciatively and ask “Are you _sure_ modeling’s not for you?”

“Hey! I’m the model in the family!” Sam protests, as Drew hugs him.

“Yes you are, which is why I’m here” Drew says.

“Can I get a hand, Derek?” he asks, and Derek shrugs on his t shirt and obliges, following Drew out to the car.

They both come back carrying two suitcases.

“What’s that?” Sam asks.

Drew smiles excitedly as he says “Prototypes.”

He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet as he explains “I took all the designs, added a few of my own, talked to Stiles, and we’ve had them all made, in your size.”

Stiles comes in the door then, happily childless for the day.

“We needed to get them done before you birth the spawn” he says.

“Why? It’s not like I’m going to wear them” Sam says, confused.

“No” Stiles states with a smug grin.

“You’re going to model them.”

“Who better to launch _HSS Manternity_ , and _HSS Moosewear_ than Sam Evans, supermodel?” Drew says, and Sam looks at the hopeful expression on his face and says slowly “I guess it does make sense….wait, what the hell is _Moosewear?_ ”

“It’s the big and tall range” Stiles tells him, grinning.

“We had to call it something, and Jess may have let your high school nickname slip.”

Jess looks completely unrepentant as she states “It’s a damn good name.”

Sam laughs, and agrees with her.

 

* * *

 

 

It turns out that Drew’s arranged a studio, a photographer, a dresser and a hair and makeup artist, and they’re all people Sam’s worked with before, so there’s an easy camaraderie on the shoot.

Sam spends half the day laughing when he finds out what Stiles has named the various products

The plaid shirts are paired with cargo pants, and labeled as _(P)laid Back_.

The jeans and pants that actually fit come under the umbrella of _Panting with Pleasure._

The truly amazingly spectacularly awful tropical shirts are simply called _Hawaiimans._

The t shirts with decent inbuilt bust support are called _Booby Traps._

When he hears that one, Sam has to sit down because he’s laughing so hard he thinks he’s in labor.

“Who let you name this stuff?” he says, between howls of mirth. “That’s terrible!”

“I know’” Stiles tells him proudly.  “It passed the Peter Test.”

“Do I even want to know?” Sam asks, still wheezing with laughter.

“If I want to know if a name will work, I run it by Peter” Stiles explains.

“Wait, you’re telling me that Peter approved these?” Sam says, a disbelieving look on his face.

Stiles snorts.

“Oh god, no. I know it’s good if he groans at me, or yells  at me to get out, or throws something.”

He adds “It’s a good system, but I might have to change it soon. His aim’s getting better.”

Sam’s busy taking deep, slow breaths in an effort to regain control, but at that he starts laughing again, much to the dismay of his makeup artist, who has to redo his foundation completely.

She tells Stiles he’s not allowed to talk to Sam until after the shoot’s finished.

It takes them two days to get pictures of all the clothing.

Sam hams it up totally for a lot of the shots, making exaggerated faces, and it’s perfect.

There’s formal wear in there as well.

Sam doesn’t know how Drew’s managed to design a suit that looks good on someone his size, but the man’s done it, and Derek ogles him shamelessly in it.

Stiles has called it _Suitably Delicious._

They don’t only take photos of Sam, either.

Derek gets strongarmed into being in a number of the pictures with him, standing behind him and spreading his hands possessively over his belly.

Stiles cameos in a few of the shots as well, sitting with Sam, each of them holding a twin and pulling faces at the babies.

When they see the proofs, Drew smiles delightedly, and hurries off to arrange for a media release. The plan is to get the pictures of a heavily pregnant Sam out there, and then launch the line in about a month. Production’s been stepped up, since Stiles is pouring all of his compensation payout from when Delilah was born into the project and financing it’s not a problem.

The first wave of designs should hit stores shortly after Sam has the twins.

At the end of it, they’ve got a lot of fantastic photos, and Sam’s worn out.

 He’s ready to stay home and let Derek look after him while he waits for the birth.

Derek’s started his leave from the hospital - the only babies he’ll be delivering are his own.

Sam’s dubious about his ability to keep calm during the birth.

Derek assures him that he’ll be fine, but Sam’s not convinced, asking him “Are you sure you won’t pull a Peter? Because I love you Der, but you’re a little…possessive.”

“Honestly? I can’t guarantee it, but I’m going to do my best. I mean you’re right, the Hales are as overprotective as all hell, but I also know that if Phil has to send me out, Peter will _never, ever_ , let me live it down, and that in itself is a pretty good motivator. Did you know that he and Jess are placing bets on how long before you kick me out?” he reveals, sounding slightly affronted.

Sam eyes Derek speculatively, and declares “We need a plan, and I think I have an idea.“

Derek raises a brow at him, amused.

“No, I’m serious. I really want you there for the birth, we just need to help you keep calm.”

He tells Derek what he wants to do, and Derek grins, and nods.

He’s happy to try anything that will make this easier for them both.

Plus, he really doesn’t want to give Peter the satisfaction of being right.

 

* * *

 

 

With three weeks to go, Sam wakes up one morning, gets out of bed, looks down at his belly, and says “Shit.”

Derek rolls over and opens one eye blearily, but he wakes up quickly when he sees what’s happened.

Overnight, Sam’s stomach has moved about four inches south, and now hangs low and pendulous in front of him.

“Oh baby, I think you’ve dropped” Derek says, grinning.

“ _Ya think_?” Sam snaps back.

He apologizes instantly.

“Sorry, Der. It’s  damned uncomfortable, that’s all.”

Derek wraps his arms around Sam and guides him to the bathroom. He doesn’t even need to ask where Sam was heading – these days it’s _always_ the bathroom.

When Sam emerges, Derek pulls him in for a hug.

“Not long now, pretty boy’’ he murmurs in Sam’s ear, and runs his hands over the baby bump.

He holds his hands there for a moment, and runs them over again.

“They’re quiet in there” he comments, frowning.

Sam shrugs.

“Probably asleep.”

Just to be sure, Derek presses his ear to Sam’s stomach, listening carefully.

He pulls back after a moment, reassured to heave heard two steady heartbeats.

“They’re fine” he breathes out.

“Told you” Sam says, rolling his eyes.

He’s feeling the strain of his pregnancy, and he’s not in the mood for Derek’s cosseting and fussing today.

He holds back a sigh as Derek guides him down the stairs, and insists on settling him on the couch with a blanket.

“I can actually walk, you know. I’m pregnant, not sick” he points out.

“But now you’ve dropped, it means the babies could come at any time. I don’t want to take any chances“ Derek tells him.

He brings them breakfast, but Sam doesn’t have much appetite.

“That can be a sign of early labor, are you sure you don’t feel anything?” Derek asks, far too eagerly for Sam’s tastes.

“I promise, if the babies decide to arrive, you’ll be the first to know” he tells Derek firmly, before getting up to put his dishes in the kitchen.

Derek hastens to walk him the ten steps across the room, hovering anxiously.

When Sam reaches up to get a water glass from the overhead cabinet, Derek reaches up and grabs it first, handing it to him.

“Thank you Derek, I _am_ capable of reaching a glass on my own” he snarls.

Derek looks stung, and Sam feels a little bad.

He opens his arms to Derek, and has to apologize for the second time that morning.

“I know you care, and I know you’re being cautious, but I promise, I’m fine” he tells Derek, tilting his head back so Derek can scent him. “See for yourself. Tell me if there’s anything off in my scent.”

Derek buries his nose in the crook of Sam’s neck and sniffs deeply.

“See? Perfectly fine” Sam insists.

Derek’s shoulders droop a little, and he says “I’m going a little Peter on you, aren’t I?”

“Just a little” Sam agrees.

“I just feel useless. I mean, we’re just waiting now, and I don’t know what you need.” Derek explains.

“You know what I need, honestly?” Sam asks.

Derek perks up, hopeful at the thought that there’s something he can do to provide for his pregnant omega, and he says “Anything, baby. You name it.”

“I need to be alone for an hour. Maybe even two or three” Sam tells him.

Derek’s brow furrows.

“Der, I haven’t been alone, properly alone, in a fortnight, and I just need some peace and quiet without anyone else around. God knows, once these babies arrive  I may never experience alone time again” Sam explains.

“You’ve been alone” Derek starts to protest, but Sam cuts him off.

“No I haven’t, not really. Going to the bathroom doesn’t count. Especially when you’re outside the door asking if I’m OK every five minutes.”

Derek looks sheepish at that.

“I just don’t want anything to happen, look at Stiles” he says quietly.

Sam rolls his eyes, hard.

“One, I’m a werewolf now. Even if I did fall, I’d heal.”

“Two, I’m not going to be climbing any damned ladders. I’m probably going to read in total silence for an hour, possibly take a shower. “

“And three, I’m a damned adult, so stop treating me like a child?” he pleads.

Derek nuzzles into his collarbone again and sniffs, deeply.

He holds Sam as close as he can, scenting him thoroughly, before letting go with a sigh and saying “You’re right. You’re an adult.”

He grabs his car keys and says “I’m going out for exactly three hours, so make the most of it. And I reserve the right to text you after an hour to check in.”

Sam’s smile lights up his face, and he kisses Derek once more before he chases him out the door.

Finally alone, Sam walks around the house slowly, basking in the silence.

He makes his way upstairs, and looks at the baby clothes that are laid out and ready in the nursery, hand on his belly as he does so.

“You’re nearly here” he says with a small smile, and settles himself in one of the rocking chairs.

He leans his head back and closes his eyes, and rocks gently as he strokes his belly, murmuring nonsense to the babies.

He stays there, savoring the peace and quiet.

He’s not sure how much time passes, because he falls asleep, but he’s woken by his phone ringing.

He fishes it out of his pocket without looking and says “Yes, I’m fine Derek.”

“Just checking. Enjoying yourself?” Derek asks, and Sam can hear the sounds of traffic in the background.

“Just chilling in the nursery” Sam replies, before asking “Where are you, anyway?”

“I’m buying a few last minute baby supplies” Derek confesses, and Sam groans.

They really don’t need any more baby stuff.

“Sam? Are you all right?” Derek demands when he hears the sound.

‘I’m fine. Get off the phone, you’ll cause an accident” Sam scolds.

“Using hands free, baby, I promise” Derek assures him. “I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

Sam tells Derek he loves him and hangs up the phone.

He makes his way carefully downstairs and settles on the couch with his book, and he’s still there when Derek comes in the door, lost in his reading and blissfully happy.

Derek’s carrying armfuls of shopping bags, and smiling broadly.

He puts down the the bags and makes his way over to Sam, kissing him.

“God, you look good. And you smell amazing” he says, nuzzling in close.

Sam’s libido gives a tiny wave to remind him that it’s been _days_ since he had sex, and that it might be something he’d like to do, please. He threads his fingers through Derek’s dark locks and holds him close, scenting him back.

Derek smells like fresh cut timber and pine sap, and suddenly all Sam wants is for Derek to be inside him, desire welling up from seemingly nowhere.

“Mmmm. Hey baby guy, wanna get lucky?” he asks.

Derek’s head snaps up, and his eyes are alight with excitement.

“Really? Do you think we can?” 

“Oh, we’ll find a way” Sam promises, smiling.

And they do.

It turns out coffee tables are not just for coffee; they’re also excellent supports for heavily pregnant omegas and their husbands.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam gives up on the stairs the next day.

He makes his way down for breakfast, but later, when he needs to go back upstairs to dress, he throws his hands up and declares “Nope. I live down here now. I’m a ground dweller.”

Derek chuckles, and goes to fetch his clothes and whatever else he needs from the bedroom.

Sam flops back on the sofa, and hisses between his teeth as he feels a slight contraction.

He’s been having them on and off all night, just niggling away, but he doesn’t want to tell Derek yet, because he can’t take the thought of him hovering, and anyway, they’re probably not even the real thing.

First time births always take forever, he’s got plenty of time.

He figures that if and when it becomes proper labor, or if his waters break, then he’ll tell him.

Derek keeps giving him sidelong glances throughout the morning, but Sam pretends not to notice, and Derek doesn’t dare ask him if everything’s OK, after Sam threw a mug at him the day before, telling him if he asked _one more fucking time_ if he was all right, he was going to beat him with a baseball bat, and that he’d tell him if he wasn’t, and _just stop asking_.

By lunch time, Sam’s fairly sure he’s in labor, and the contractions are suddenly a lot closer.

It’s time.

“Hey, baby guy?” he calls out from the couch.

“Hmm?” comes back from the kitchen.

“Wanna grab my bag and drive me to the hospital?” Sam calls back, and there’s the sound of a glass shattering.

Derek appears in the doorway, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really?”

Sam grins, and tells him “Really, daddy.”

Derek could light a small country with the brightness of his smile.

“You’re sure? How far apart are the contractions?” he asks excitedly.

“They’ve been on and off all morning, but they’re stronger now” Sam tells him, gripping his hand and squeezing.

“And when was your last one? Just breathe, baby” Derek says, swiftly placing his hand on Sam’s belly and taking his pain.

Sam huffs out a sigh of relief, and answers “Maybe two minutes?”

Derek holds Sam close, and gently says “Are you ready for this?”

Sam laughs shakily and says “God, no. but it’s happening anyway.”

He tenses as another contraction grips him, and Derek checks his watch.

“Sam, we’re going. That was only minute and a half.”

Sam nods, and breathes, and Derek breathes with him, and when Sam can walk again, they head out to the car.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek calls Phil, and drives to the hospital.

Sam breathes through his contractions as they drive, and Derek keeps glancing at him, until Sam tells him “Look at me once more, and I’m getting out and calling a cab. Eyes on the _road_ , Der.”

Derek looks sheepish, but keeps his attention on the traffic. Sam wisely chooses not to mention the speed he’s driving at.

By the time they reach the hospital, Sam’s in serious pain.

Derek pulls into a park and rushes to open his door.

“Shh, we’re here baby, come on, into the chair and we’ll get you settled in” Derek soothes, helping Sam into a wheelchair.

Phil’s waiting for them at the door, and he takes one look at Sam and says “let me guess, you thought you’d wait a little, and you wildly misjudged?”

Sam nods, too busy breathing through the spasms to answer.

Derek breathes with him, and draws away his discomfort.

“Tell me Derek, have I ever mentioned that my nephew can be an idiot?” Phil asks casually.

“Hey! Be nice, Uncle Phil” Sam protests.

He doesn’t say anything after that because he’s having another contraction.

“Get him in, and get him ready” Phil orders, and Derek takes Sam through to the birthing suite.

He helps him onto the bed, and Phil comes in moments later.

Derek strips his shirt off and climbs up behind Sam in the bed, cradling his belly and murmuring to him.

Sam settles back against him with a sigh, saying “Ready to meet the spawn?”

“God, no, but it’s happening anyway” Derek echoes back at him, and Sam laughs.

His laughter’s cut short by another, stronger contraction, but Derek guides him through it, and as he promised, he’s the consummate professional.

He hums, and breathes with Sam, and takes the edge off his pain, and Sam curls up against him and swears like a trooper when it all gets too much.

Derek doesn’t like seeing his husband like this, and his protective instincts kick in.

He goes to take Sam’s pain again, but Phil puts out a hand to stop him, saying “He needs to feel it, Derek.”

Derek slaps Phil’s hand away, growling.

“Hey, big guy. Behave, or I’ll give our children awful names.”” Sam threatens.

Derek apologizes, but he side eyes Phil as he keeps a firm grip on Sam.

“I need to examine Sam now Derek, do you need to leave the room?” Phil asks as he slips on a glove.

Derek’s growl gets deeper, and he gets off the bed and stands in front of Sam, blocking Phil’s way.

“ _Don’t touch him_ ” he grits out through his fangs.

Phil gives him an unimpressed look, and says “Put the damn teeth away, alpha.”

Derek flashes red eyes at him, and says “You’re not touching him.”

Phil folds his arms across his chest as he says “Don’t think I won’t throw you out of here, Derek. I can have the rest of the pack here inside five minutes to drag you out if I have to.”

Sam speaks, then.

“Hey, Derek?”

Derek whirls to face him, and Sam says “Do you need to leave, baby guy? Because I really need you here, but not if you’re like this. So let’s get control, yeah? Like we discussed?”

Derek struggles for a moment before he nods stiffly, and Sam reaches out and takes his hands. He closes his eyes and breathes once, twice, in and out, slow and steady, and Sam coaches him through it, just like they’ve practiced.

 Because this was Sam’s plan.

He’s going to be Derek’s birth coach.

“Yeah, that’s right big guy. In, one two….. out, one two…. just breathe, and relax. You’re fine, we’re fine” he soothes, and his tone helps Derek to calm down and regain control.

“Yeah, that’s my man, doing so well, baby” Sam croons, as Derek opens his eyes again and they’re back to their normal green.

 The irony of the situation isn’t lost on Derek, and he leans in and scents Sam deeply, murmuring softly “Sorry Sam, it just got a little much.”

Sam grins as he holds Derek close and scents him back. “You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”

Derek sighs, and nods.

Sam pulls back enough to rest his forehead against Derek’s and he says quietly “Phil’s gonna do what he needs to do now, and you’re gonna step out for a moment, and I promise I’ll call you back in as soon as we’re done, OK?”

Derek takes a deep breath, and nods before he reluctantly leaves the room.

Phil examines Sam, being as gentle as possible, and he shakes his head fondly at his nephew.

“You’ve cut it mighty fine getting here, Sam. You’re nearly fully dilated. I’d say half an hour at most.”

Sam looks startled.

“That soon?”

Phil nods in confirmation.

“It’s all going beautifully. Now will we put Derek out of his misery and let him back in?”

“Get in here Derek, I can hear you lurking outside the door” Sam calls, and sure enough, Derek’s inside in a matter of seconds and by his side, not even trying to hide his need to touch and scent Sam and check he’s all right.

Sam tilts his head back so Derek can scent him before asking “Better now, baby guy?”

“Better, pretty boy. Thank you” Derek says, burrowing into the crook of Sam’s neck.

Sam can feel the waves of another contraction start to roll over him, and he lets out a shaky breath as he tells Derek “Time to do your job, Hale.”

Derek holds Sam close, and proceeds to breathe with him and talk him through his next contraction, letting Sam squeeze his hand hard enough to bruise as he tells him  it will be over soon, breathe in, one two, breathe out, one two.

Sam breathes and pants and swears until the pain subsides, and lets out a whoosh of air as the contraction finally lets go.

He grabs onto Derek tightly and nuzzles into the crook of his neck, panting as he says “Next one you can take the pain, yeah?”

“Yeah baby, next one” Derek confirms, running his hand down Sam’s back and making shushing noises.

“Thank god” Sam says with feeling.

 

* * *

 

 

The next twenty minutes fly by, but they also take forever.

Derek sits behind Sam and coaches him, holding his back firmly against his broad chest, rubbing his hands over Sam’s belly, massaging him and soothing him through every contraction, taking the pain when Phil says he can, comforting Sam when he can’t.

Sam cries out as his labor progresses, and Derek holds him and sings to him softly, as his contractions get stronger and closer together.

Finally, when the contractions are constant, Phil guides him over onto his hands and knees.

‘I think it’s time to have a look, Sam”

Sam asks Derek “Stay? Please?”

Derek nods, and moves to the head of the bed, doing his best to steel himself against the hurt noises Sam’s making, and fighting the urge to punch Phil in the face for causing his husband further discomfort.

Phil completes the exam swiftly and says “Any time you’re ready to push, Sam.”

Derek cradles Sam’s face, telling him “Hear that baby? Nearly there.”

“I don’t think I can” Sam whimpers.

His labor’s been short, but intense, and he’s worn out.

“Just listen to your body, Sam. You’re doing wonderfully” Phil tells him.

“Doing so well for me, Sam. You can do this” Derek encourages him, and Sam leans into his touch.

“I think….it feels…..” he starts, and then what ever he’s trying to say is cut off as his body is wracked with pain and the urge to _push_.

Sam throws back his head and keens as he follows his instincts and pushes long and hard.

He’s panting by the time the contraction finishes, but he has a determined set to his shoulders, and he’s ready for this to be over.

Derek tells him how well he’s doing, as Sam leans into him while he waits for the next wave.

When it hits, Sam pushes again, grunting this time with the effort, and he doesn’t stop, can’t stop, his body desperate to finish what’s started.

“Good job. Keep going like that” Phil encourages.

“Like I have a damn choice” Sam snaps out.

Derek grins delightedly, because he knows that Sam’s snappishness means they’re nearly there.

Sam takes in his expression and demands “What the hell are you looking so smug about?  I hate you right now! ”

Derek attempts to hide his smile, but fails miserably.

Sam mutters to himself about smug alpha assholes, before arching his back and letting out a scream as he gives in to the demands of his body and pushes, the veins in his neck visible as he strains and screams and cries, pushing as hard as he can before collapsing down onto his elbows, exhausted.

“I can see the head, nearly there!” Phil says excitedly, and reaches up and squeezes Sam’s hand.

Sam squeezes back, panting shallowly. Derek can see the moment the contraction hits, the moment Sam’s body locks up as he tenses under the incredible pressure around his midsection, and Sam lets out a half- sob and _pushes_ , hard.

“That’s it, keep going” Phil encourages, and a moment later Sam makes a sound like a wounded beast, and just like that, their son is born.

“A boy” Phil pronounces, and hands the squirming bundle over to Derek.

The baby cries once, sharply, but settles as Derek places him in the crook of his neck. The tiny wolf nuzzles in instinctively, snuffling and scenting his pack alpha, and quiets immediately.

Derek turns so that Sam can see their son, and Sam smiles through his sweat and tears at the sight.

“Looks like you, Der.” he says.

And he does. Baby Hale has a mass of dark hair, and the straight Hale nose, and the signature dark brows that will probably become his means of communicating later in life.

Derek pulls the baby away so he can look at him better, and the infant lets out a wail at losing contact with him. Derek quickly places the child back against his chest and starts to make a low rumbling sound, and he lets out a contented snuffling noise.

Sam moans lowly, starting to pant again, and Derek can tell that it’s time for baby number two. Even for a werewolf, this has been a remarkably short labor, so Derek’s not surprised that the second baby’s coming so soon.

Sam grunts, and pushes.

And pushes.

And pushes.

“Can it be over?” he begs Phil, exhausted.

“Head’s there, one more should do it” Phil nods, and with the next contraction Sam forces the small body from him.

There’s silence, and Derek glances down, worried, but then their other son draws a breath and lets out a lusty squall, and he sighs in relief, and tells Sam “Another boy, it’s two boys, we have sons!”

Sam collapses with relief, and Phil helps him roll over on the bed. Derek places the first baby on his chest, and takes the second child.

This one has features that look a little more like Sam, and his hair’s not as dark, but there’s a lot of it.  Just like his brother, he snuggles in against his father’s neck and eagerly seeks out the scent of pack.

As the baby settles in, Derek feels it.

From the look on his face, so does Sam.

Two tiny new threads.  New pack bonds forming.

Derek looks at his husband holding their son, and Sam looks at him, and suddenly they’re grinning and laughing and crying all at once.

“We did it” Sam whispers, awestruck.

Derek gets onto the bed carefully next to Sam, grinning wildly.

“We did it” he agrees.

 

* * *

 

They only get a few minutes of peace before Sam starts to grimace as he feels the afterpains start.

A nurse comes and whisks the twins away to clean them and check them over, and Derek drains Sam’s pain as he delivers the placenta easily.  By the time he’s done, the babies are back, dressed in onesies and beanies, squirming and crying.

Derek lifts them easily onto Sam’s chest and watches raptly as they settle in against him.

“Proud Daddy” Sam teases.

“Uh huh.” Derek doesn’t even try to deny it.

He turns to Sam and asks “Will you be Papa, then?”

Sam considers it, but shakes his head.

“Dad” he says.

Derek quirks a brow at him.

“Yes, I’m sure, don’t give me that look” Sam tells him, because he speaks fluent eyebrow.

At the sound of his voice, their firstborn son squirms a little closer to Sam and lets out a tiny sigh.

“What are you naming them?” Phil asks, entranced by the sight of his great-nephews.

Sam and Derek look down at their twins, before Derek lifts their first son and says hesitantly “Which is which, Sam?”

“Oh, he’s definitely James” Sam decides after a moment.

“Which means that you, baby are Nicholas” he coos at the second twin.

Phil goes silent for a moment.

“After your dad?” he finally says.

“After my dad” Sam confirms.

Phil doesn’t even try to hide his happiness as he hugs Sam tight.

 

* * *

 

 

The boys are both a whopping eight pounds, even with being three weeks early, and they both take after Sam in nature, relaxed and content.

They’re easy babies, and they laugh and gurgle happily whenever anyone holds them, and they sleep solidly, and Sam wonders exactly what he was worried about.

Derek takes to parenting like a duck to water, and Sam loves the sight of him sprawled in a recliner with a baby on each shoulder, rumbling deep in his chest for them and smiling like he may never stop.

They’re both dead tired, and they spend the first two weeks at home in  pajamas, and neither of them cares, because they have two gorgeous boys to look after.

They’re lying in bed one evening, the boys settled in their cribs, and Sam’s sprawled across Derek, who’s half dozing.

Sam nudges him a little, and asks “Happy?”

Derek sighs contentedly and nods, saying “So happy. You have no idea, Sam.”

Sam hums in reply, and Derek can tell he’s thinking.

“So” he says. “Once these two are bigger, we should definitely have lots more, right?”

Derek’s eyes fly wide open at that.

“If you want?” Sam adds, grinning, because he knows damn well if it was up to Derek they’d have a football team – it’s him who’s always said he only wants two.

Derek smiles widely at his perfect husband and kisses the top of his head as he says “You know I want.”

 

 


	20. Thirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles celebrates his thirtieth birthday with a bang. The rest of the pack help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this is it. Gentleman 'verse is done.  
> For someone who doesn't write A/B/O or mpreg, this sure got away from me.  
> I hope you enjoy the final hurrah!

“Stand still, love” Peter chides, he does up Stiles’ tie for him.

Stiles is perfectly capable of doing up his own tie, but he lets Peter, because he knows his husband loves to fuss over him, especially now.

“There you go, sweetheart.”

Peter gives his tie one last tweak, and stands back so Stiles can see himself in the mirror.

Stiles has paired a soft charcoal pinstripe suit with a jade green shirt. He’s foregone the jacket, and is wearing his sleeves rolled up and a waistcoat. Peter hums appreciatively.

Stiles stares at his reflection, and breathes out “Fuck, Peter. I’m thirty.”

From the next room comes Lila’s voice, saying “Language, Papa!”

“What have I told you about listening through walls, Delilah Hale?” Peter says sternly.

“If the door’s shut, we don’t listen in” comes back the reply, followed by “Sorry, Daddy.”

Peter pats Stiles once on the ass, says “I’ll be right back” and disappears out the door, presumably to banish Lila downstairs as punishment for eavesdropping.

Stiles takes advantage of the time Peter’s gone to really look at himself.

He’s not the nineteen year old he was when he first fell pregnant, that’s for sure. He’s shaved his beard back to well-groomed stubble, and his hair’s tousled artfully – Peter’s doing. He gets his hands on Stiles every chance he gets now, grooming him, caring for him, touching him absently, and Stiles understands, really he does.

After what happened, Peter’s wolf went into overdrive, and even now, two years later, he’s incredibly protective.

Stiles runs a hand absently down the side of his face, the hand not holding his cane.

He traces the scar that runs in a straight line from his temple down to his cheekbone, skirting dangerously close to his eye. Peter cried when they first took the bandages off, but Stiles doesn’t mind it, not really.

It’s not like it gives him any pain, not like his hip.

David says it makes him look like a pirate.

Stiles tends to agree with David, and he has an eyepatch that he pulls out sometimes when he plays with his son, using his cane as a makeshift sword and slurring “Aaargh, mateys!” as he pretends that the couch is his ship and David and Rosie are enemies trying to board him.

He looks in the mirror, and there’s an adult there.

A damned fine looking adult, he amends – especially in this particular suit, which Sam had made for him as a birthday present.

It accents the long, lean lines of his body, and hugs his ass firmly. The waistcoat nips in at the waist, creating an attractive silhouette.

“You look very dapper. ” Peter says, coming up behind Stiles and resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Very fuckable" he adds. His hands stroke gently across Stiles’ ass, and Stiles grins.

It’s been a busy week, and privacy’s been at a premium, but he thinks they might be able to steal a little time to themselves now.

“Where are Lila and the twins?” he asks quietly.

“In the playroom with the others, watching movies, and under strict orders not to come upstairs and not to disturb us” Peter purrs, and Stiles’ grin widens. It seems Peter has the same idea he does.

“When are the guests arriving again?” Peter asks Stiles, as he looks him up and down hungrily.

“A little over an hour, why?” Stiles asks, feigning innocence.

Peter takes a step closer, and scents Stiles.

“Because you look delicious, and you smell especially delicious,” he tells him, and slides a hand up his back, pulling him in so their bodies are pressed together.

“You look fairly edible yourself, actually” Stiles replies.

He deftly slips the knot on Peter’s own tie and pulls it off him, and leans in to lick a stripe up his neck.

“We have time” he murmurs, and Peter grins.

They undress each other slowly, and Peter picks Stiles up and lays him carefully on the bed, kissing him hungrily.

Stiles kisses him back, making a contented sound in the back of his throat. Peter starts to work his way down Stiles’ body, leaving tiny lovebites in his wake.

“Just make sure we aren’t late, we only have an hour” Stiles admonishes softly, but then he’s distracted by Peter’s mouth on his nipple.

* * *

 

 

They make it downstairs with five minutes to spare, and they still beat Derek and Sam, but nobody’s really surprised – Sam’s pregnant, after all.

When Sam and Derek finally come down the stairs a few minutes after Peter and Stiles, Stiles doesn’t need a werewolf’s nose to know what they’ve been doing – Sam’s cheeks are flushed and his pupils are blown wide, and Derek’s hair looks like someone’s been pulling on it.

That, and his fly’s still down.

“Are we late?” Sam asks as he walks carefully down the last few stairs, belly protruding in front of him.

‘Nah, still waiting for Pops”  Stiles tells him.

He limps over to a chair and sits down gingerly, wincing a little.

Delilah’s at his side instantly, drawn from the playroom by the sound of the adults.

“Sore, Papa?” she asks, concern etched on her young face.

He kisses her softly on the forehead, saying “It just aches a little, baby.”

She frowns, giving him a look that’s _pure_ Peter, and scolds him, saying “You need to tell me, so I can help.”

As she speaks, she lays a dainty palm against his hip, and black lines snake up her arm.

“You’re so thoughtful, Lila” Stiles tells her, as he relaxes into her touch.

“And you’re brave, Papa. I don’t know how you put up with it all the time” she replies, softly.

 “You know that it’s part of me being human, Lila. And I wouldn’t trade it” Stiles says, ignoring Peter’s pout.

It’s a constant source of amazement to his children that Stiles doesn’t heal like they do, yet he manages to carry on with everyday life perfectly well.

It’s a constant source of aggravation to Peter that Stiles won’t take the damn bite, but he reluctantly concedes that it’s not his decision to make.

 

* * *

 

The other guests are arriving later, but Stiles has asked that all the family be there early, so that Kevin can take a family portrait.

As they wait for Noah, Stiles pulls Peter close and kisses the top of his head.

“Thank you for doing this, I know you hate crowds” he murmurs.

Peter snorts.

“Stiles, in case you haven’t noticed, just our pack is a crowd all on their own. It’s strangers I can’t stand. But this? This is how pack is meant to be” Peter tells him, smiling as he takes in the gathering.

There are Peter and Stiles and their family.

Drew and Jess are there with Andrew and Philip, named after his great uncle.

And then there’s Sam and Derek’s tribe.

All five of them.

James and Nick have just turned seven, but it’s already obvious that they’ve both inherited their parents’ good looks and their Dad’s height.

Sam adores his boys, and once he found his footing he turned out to be a natural at parenting.

He quickly decided that he wanted more children, and Derek happily, gleefully went along with whatever Sam wanted.

Because Derek soon discovered that he loves being a parent as well.

Which was good, because their family grew a little faster than they originally intended.

Hazel’s five (“and a half” she insists on reminding them) and was the result of Sam’s first heat after the boys were born.

In a classic case of “the mechanic always has the worst car” Derek, the Baby Guy, neglected to get his contraceptive shot, and both he and Sam were so brain fried from the combination of raising twins, launching a business, and working at the hospital, that they only realised when Sam’s heat subsided after three days.

Derek had been full of apologies, but Sam had waved them aside, thrilled.

“Derek, I’m over the damn moon. I bet it’s a girl this time, and surely it won’t be twins again” Sam had said, and his prediction had turned out to be correct.

When their daughter was born after what was possibly the easiest pregnancy ever, Derek had taken one look and named her after the color of Sam’s eyes.

Sam had called him a big soft idiot, and Derek had just nodded absently, holding their baby girl close, falling in more in love with their unexpected addition with every second.

Derek became absolute putty in his daughter’s hands.

Hazel barely slept in a crib for the first year of her life unless Derek was working. If he was home, he’d sneak into her room at any time of day or night and rock her gently, holding her against his bare chest and whispering to her as she clutched at his finger and inhaled his scent.

As a result, she was the most contented baby ever, placid and relaxed. Even on a full moon, she’d settle sleepily across her father’s chest, let out a few tiny growls, and doze off.

Sam thought it was adorable, and had several hundred pictures of Derek and his baby girl. For her first birthday, he took them to the print shop and had them made into a collage showing the first year of their baby girl’s life, spent on Daddy’s lap.

She was so easy that it lulled them into a false sense of security, and as she neared eighteen months, Sam said wistfully to Derek “She’s not a baby any more, Der. Is it too soon to try again?”

They agreed to try for one more, both of them yearning for a house full of sleepy cuddles and soft skin and the smell of baby powder that lingered in every room.

Just one, they said.

It had taken Sam two heats to fall pregnant, and it had caused some consternation, but Phil had reassured them that sometimes, it just happens, especially if a couple are stressed or overworked.

He’d directed that last at Derek, and told him in no uncertain terms that he and Sam needed to take a break.

They left the three children with Phil and his wife, and went to Niagara Falls for a week.

Tourist Derek made himself sick when they went on the three hour food tour of Toronto, and Sam was completely unsympathetic, instead sending photos to Peter and lecturing Derek that maple bacon isn’t actually meant to be consumed by the pound.

Derek told him that he was heartless, and why would they even sell something by the pound if you weren’t meant to eat it all at once?

Before they left, Derek filled his suitcase with souvenirs, t shirts, baseball caps, five gallons of maple syrup, and every soft toy he could lay his hands on for his babies.

Sam let him.

Next heat, Sam was pregnant within a day.

Talia and Ruth, both named after their grandmothers, are three.

Where Hazel is laid back and affectionate, and James and Nick are earnest and a little serious like Derek, the girls are bundles of energy, curious and funny and restless, and always on the go.

They’re sweet natured little things though, not a mean bone in their body – they’re just….busy.

Sam and Derek adore them, calling them their little pocket rockets, watching with amusement as they tag along after their older brothers and sisters and cousins, especially Delilah, who lives with them now, and who Talia openly worships, because Delilah has _curls_ , lots of curls.

Five children is a lot, and their life got really busy there for a while.

After what Stiles calls The Thing and Peter darkly calls The Incident, they were helping Peter and Noah care for Delilah and the twins as well as their own five, while Stiles recovered.

It was easier at the time for Peter and Stiles to just move in, and somehow they’ve never left, even after two years.

Derek’s not sure he wants them to – Peter’s excellent with the children, always home, always ready to babysit, and the cousins are much closer than normal, regarding each other as brothers and sisters for all intents and purposes.

As the oldest, Delilah keeps them all in line, and in turn, Peter keeps Delilah in line.

He gently schools her in controlling her strength and her temper after she leaves deep grooves in the wall with her claws after a bad day at school. He makes her fold all the laundry for the twelve of them, placidly watching as she works her way through what Stiles calls Mount Washmore and grumbles under her breath.

He reminds her that her abilities are a gift, and not to be abused, and he makes her apologize to Derek for damaging the walls.

Then he takes her running through the preserve to help her burn off her excess energy, showing her the trails that are safest, and encouraging her to wear herself and her wolf out.

It’s a good lesson, and it becomes a habit to come home from school, dump her bags, and just run.

She becomes a lot calmer after that, but she’s still damned nosy, just like her Papa.

 Peter has to constantly remind her, as her wolf grows stronger and her senses sharpen even more, that just because you _can_ hear everything in the house, doesn’t mean you _should_ hear everything in the house, and that personal space is a thing, and that she _really, really_ shouldn’t open the door to Uncle Derek and Uncle Sam’s room when Derek’s come home from work, no matter what she thinks she hears in there.

She disregards that warning exactly once when it sounds like Uncle Derek is in pain.  She’s met by the sight of Sam kissing Derek passionately while he does … _something…_ with his hand down Derek’s scrubs, and resolves never to open the door without knocking again.

It’s a busy household, and Derek wouldn’t have it any other way.

And it’s about to get busier.

About a month before his last heat, Sam had pinned Derek to the bed and whispered “So, I was thinking. I’m thirty five. It’s not too old, not really. We could  maybe try for just one more baby Hale-Evans? If you want?”

Derek had replied  ”You know I want” with a wide smile.

“One more, then” Sam had said.

Nature had laughed at them.

Sam’s due in three months, and they’ll need every single day of that time to prepare for the triplets.

When they told Peter and Stiles, Stiles had laughed for a long, long, time while mumbling ‘ _Hale Super Sperm’_ , but he’d also made sure Peter’s shot was up to date.

* * *

 

 

As Stiles waits for his Dad and Kevin to arrive, he looks over the myriad of photos adorning the walls of the house, documenting the life of the pack.

A picture of Derek, passed out with the twins snugged up against his neck and Hazel curled up in his lap.

Jess and Drew on their wedding day.

Jess and Drew and Andrew, with baby Philip.

Sam, Derek, and their family of five, taken just days after the girls were born.

Peter and Derek and Drew, with the ten children all lined up like the Von Trapp family, loaded up with backpacks and looking like they’re going on an expedition to the North Pole, when in fact they’re just going for their weekly Daddy Day at the park.

Delilah asleep on the couch with Peter and James and Nick, all four of them shifted.

Peter and Noah with Stiles propped between them on crutches, the day they finally let him out of hospital.

Stiles, standing there proudly holding his college degree, a year before the accident.

It had been tough, juggling three children and a college course, but with Peter’s support, Stiles had managed it, and he’d become a marketing genius, once he combined his own natural flair with a solid knowledge base.

Paired with Sam and Drew’s design skills, it’s a big part of why HSS is so successful.

That, and _Moosewear._

Apparently, there was a massive market for big and tall manternity wear that was simply going unmet, and Sam’s line of clothing took off instantly, helped along by the magazine adverts and billboards showing Sam wearing the clothing.

Now, eight years later, it’s one of the top selling lines out there.

Sam still models the new lines.

The public still has no idea what HSS stands for, although there a are plenty of wild guesses. It’s one of the things that makes their brand stand out, so they keep it a secret.

Noah arrives at the same time as Kevin, and then they spend about half an hour posing in various configurations as he takes shot after shot after shot.

Stiles would normally need a break, but every time one of his children walks past, they place a hand on his leg and pull away any pain that’s there, before walking on.

It’s just something they do, now.

When Stiles had first been injured, they’d listened solemnly as Peter explained to them that Papa would take time to get better, and he didn’t heal like wolves do, so they must be very gentle with him, and not expect him to get up healed the next day the way that David did that time he broke his arm falling out of a tree.

They’d nodded with wide eyes, before five year old David had asked “Daddy, what if we just take his pain?” with his head cocked and his eyebrow arched, the spitting image of his father in that moment

Peter had nodded and said that certainly, that would help, thinking David meant just for that day, but it turned out he’d severely underestimated his children.

Even though the twins were only just able to shift fully, they knew the mechanics of the pain draw, and they threw themselves into the task of making their Papa comfortable.

They couldn’t take all the pain, not even close, but Stiles appreciated the gesture anyway.

And then the twins discovered that if they both took Stiles pain at the _same time_ , it was far more effective.

So for those first few weeks, whenever Peter walked into the room, Stiles would have one or two of their children sprawled next to him with a hand on him, tiny grey lines running up their arms as they closed their eyes and concentrated.

Stiles thought it was adorable, even in his exhausted and battered state, and as he reminded Peter one night as they lay curled together “I told you, they need someone human to teach them how to have compassion.”

“Well they’re compassionate enough now, will you please take the bite, sweetheart? You know the doctors said the limp could be permanent if we wait too long” Peter pleaded.

Stiles shrugged, and said “Our kids are turning into good people. I wouldn’t trade that for the world. And if it takes me having an ache in my hip and a limp to teach them to be kind, then I really don’t mind.”

“Stubborn” Peter huffed out.

“No bite, Peter” Stiles said firmly, and he’s refused to discuss it since.

 

* * *

 

Stiles’ birthday is in full swing, and Sam and Derek take a moment just to watch their friends and family mingle and celebrate.

Lydia’s bought her latest beau, some pretty young thing that seems to be lasting longer than normal, and who must be in favor if he’s invited to a pack event.

Scott and Isaac are there too, quietly holding hands. Nobody had seen that one coming, but everyone’s glad for them.

Stiles is flailing wildly on the dance floor, either too drunk to feel any pain or ignoring it. He’s having a good time, waving his arms about as he dances with one of the many friends he’s made through college. He’s a popular guy, and there are a lot of faces here tonight that Derek hasn’t seen before, but Stiles knows them all, and he’s enjoying having everyone here and not being an adult for once.

Peter joins Sam and Derek as they watch, and Derek doesn’t even have to ask to know what he’s thinking about.

They’re all painfully aware that there was a small window when they were in real danger of losing Stiles, immediately after the accident.

 

It had been the stupidest thing.

 

Stiles literally walked out into traffic.

 

He was on his phone, not watching where he was going, when he stepped into the path of an ongoing car. The driver was helpless as his body collided with the bonnet and bounced off before hitting the pavement with a dull thud.

Peter, who was on the other end of the call, heard a noise, and then a woman screaming, and then there was somebody telling him there’d been an accident, and he managed to ask where, hanging up and racing out onto the street as he ran to the scene, not two blocks from his house.

Stiles had lain limply blood pouring from the wound on his face and his legs sprawled at an unnatural angle, and Peter had screamed at him to wake up as he cradled him in his arms.

When the paramedics arrived minutes later, Peter had climbed into the ambulance with him, refusing to let the body go, and upon arrival at the hospital they had to call Derek to wrestle him out of the room.

Stiles’ leg was shattered in four places, and his hip was crushed. He had six broken ribs, a wide gash on his face, and a ruptured spleen.

It was the last one that nearly cost him his life.

He was in surgery for several hours, and the doctors were able to save part of the organ, but it was a close call.

Peter had begged Derek to give Stiles the bite, but Derek had hesitated, because he knew how Stiles felt – as a last resort, he always said, and there was no guarantee that it would take in his weakened condition.

And while he was still arguing with Peter, the surgeon had come out and told them that Stiles was out of danger for now and if they didn't stop shouting he’d have them both thrown out.

There had been a long period of recovery, and surgery to put in an artificial hip, then surgery to replace it with a different type because Stiles’ body reacted badly to the materials, then surgery to try and repair his thigh bone, on and on it went, until finally, after three long months, they sent him home.

He wasn't recovered, not by a long shot, but he was at least well enough to leave the hospital and start the long, painful rounds of physical therapy.

It was agony for Stiles, and it was agony for Peter watching him. There was more than one night where he ended up at Noah’s, and they cried and cursed their stupid, careless boy, even while they ached to make him better.

Sometimes Derek wonders if he should have given in to Peter’s demands and given Stiles the bite, on the days when he sees Stiles looking drawn and tired, or struggling to do something one handed while the other clutches his cane.

He’s made the offer since the accident, but Stiles insists that it’s fine, he’s fine, and he reminds Derek that if he wants the bite, he knows where to come.

Derek knows he never will, and it’s too late to repair the damage anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter’s birthday gift to Stiles is this.

(Actually, Peter’s gift to Stiles is a Shelby 1000 Cobra, but he’s not getting that until his _proper_ birthday, on Tuesday).

Stiles gets a night off from parenting.

After they’ve eaten, he’ll take the children upstairs and tuck them all into bed, and keep an ear out for them and keep them under control, and he’ll be the responsible adult and not drink, and Stiles will be free to cut loose.

And when Stiles is falling down drunk he’ll carry him upstairs to bed, and not remind him of his alcohol-fueled ramblings the next morning.

He’s also promised to clean up, and let Stiles sleep the whole next day, because Stiles has made it very clear that he intends to celebrate to the fullest tonight, and Peter’s happy to let him – anything for his husband.

And he does it all.

He rounds up all the little Hales and Evans children and puts them to bed, and then watches fondly as Stiles works his way through a tray of Jello shots single handedly.

He stays sober and watches as his husband has a whale of a time with his friends and pack, singing along atrociously to the music, downing more shots, and acting like a teenager.

He dances with him when a drunken, affectionate Stiles drags him onto the floor, surreptitiously laying a hand against his hip and removing any traces of discomfort, and he lets Stiles mumble into his neck about how he’s a good dancer and a great husband, and how he has an amazing dick, and he wants to take him to bed _right now_.

It’s 2am, and most people are leaving, so Peter nods to Derek and lifts his husband up and carries him to bed, knowing full well that he’ll be passed out before too long.

Stiles is asleep before Peter’s even unbuttoned his vest.

He sprawls across the bed as Peter undresses him, and doesn’t move a muscle except when Peter prods him to roll him onto his side. Stiles really has had a lot to drink, and the last thing Peter wants is for him to choke on his own vomit as he sleeps.

The movement of his body means that Peter’s face to face with the long surgery scar that runs up his leg and around his hip, and Peter sighs as he runs a hand over the damaged area and pulls a little pain away.

He leans down and kisses Stiles on the hip, before drawing the blankets over him and going downstairs to start cleaning up.

It’s an absolute bomb site, and Peter shakes his head as he grabs a trash bag and starts filling it. It’s not often that Stiles and his friends get together, and Peter’s glad he had a good time, but still.

He hears a noise behind him and turns to see Derek grabbing another bag and pitching in.

He starts to protest, but Derek gives him an easy smile and reveals that Sam’s snoring anyway, so he figured he might as well help clean up.

They work in companionable silence to restore order, and between the two of them it doesn’t take long.

Peter surveys their handiwork with satisfaction, and says “Thanks, Derek. Sorry we made such a mess of your house.”

Derek turns to him with a confused look, and says “It’s not my house, Peter, it’s our house. You live here too.”

“Yes, but that’s only temporary, while Stiles recovers. We’ll move out once he gets a little more strength back in that leg” Peter promises.

Derek sighs, and says gently “Peter, Stiles’ leg isn’t going to get any better, you know that.”

Peter’s shoulder slump as he says “It’s really not, is it?”

Derek shakes his head mutely.

“In that case, we should probably move home and get out of your hair.”

Derek‘s eyebrow draw together, and he says “Peter, why on earth would you do that? We were hoping we could convince you to stay. The kids all get on well, we get on well, and it makes arranging childcare a breeze with you living here. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to move to a downstairs room, so Stiles doesn’t have to deal with the stairs.  You could take the big end room. It would be no trouble to install an en-suite for you guys.”

Peter looks flummoxed, his mouth opening and closing.

“It’s your home though, Derek. Surely you want some privacy?” he finally says.

Derek laughs.

“Peter, I have five children. Five. And all of them are werewolves. There is no privacy in this house. None.  And you’re welcome to stay, permanently.”

Peter suddenly finds it very hard to swallow.

“I’ll ask Stiles tomorrow” he says, his voice hoarse.

He goes to leave the room, but turns back at the last minute.

“We could get the bedrooms soundproofed, you know” he muses, and that’s when Derek knows that they’re here for good.

He smiles to himself, satisfied.

 

* * *

 

 

Hung over doesn’t even begin to describe how Stiles feels when he finally wakes the next afternoon.

He gingerly opens one eyelid and sees that there’s note on the bedside table, along with some painkillers.

It takes him five minutes to reach out with trembling fingers and pick it up, and another five before he can keep his eyes open long enough to read it.

_Taken the tribe out for the afternoon. Get some rest_

_Love you_

_Peter_

Stiles listens carefully, and sure enough, the house is completely silent.

He takes his pills and drinks the glass of water carefully, waiting to see if he can keep it down. He manages, but it’s a close run thing.

It takes another ten minutes for him to get upright, but his bladder can’t be ignored, so he limps to the bathroom and pees, then nuzzles back into the blankets to sleep a little more, fighting the waves of nausea that wash over him from moving so much.

When he wakes again, it’s 6pm. Delilah’s face is inches from his, and she’s regarding him seriously.

“Are you sick, Papa?” she asks.

“Not sick, just tired, sweetpea. I stayed up very late last night with my friends” Stiles tells her, and she seems satisfied with that answer.

“Daddy said see if you were awake and to ask if you want anything to eat” she recites.

Stiles sits up in bed, wincing as his head throbs a little. He still feels shaky, but it’s a lot better than it was.

He remembers why he doesn’t drink all that often.

“What I’d really like is if you’d send daddy up here” he says, and Delilah nods and goes clattering down the stairs to deliver the request.

Stiles shifts uncomfortably. The muscles in his leg feel like they’re on fire, and he regrets all the dancing he did the night before. But he’d wanted to celebrate being alive, and being happy, and he’d done so, in style.

Peter comes in the door, concerned.

“Stiles? What’s wrong? Is it your leg? Lila said you needed me?” he asks, as he automatically lays his hand across Stiles’ hip and heavy black lines appear.

Stiles smiles at him and says “Calm down, Peter. I just want to talk to you in private, that’s all.”

The relief on Peter’s face is palpable. 

“What’s up sweetheart?”

Stiles hesitates.

"There's a reason I wanted to have one last decent drunken fling last night, last for a while, anyway" he starts.

Peter looks confused, but waits for him to continue.

“It’s just, my heat’s coming up in a month”

Peter nods. He’s booked in for his shot next week.

“Iwaswonderingifyouwantedonemore” Stiles blurts out.

It takes Peter a moment to parse what Stiles has said, but then he realizes exactly what his husband’s asking.

Peter’s speechless.

After Stiles had such a close call with Rosie and David, neither of them had wanted to take the risk of another pregnancy at first, and then Stiles had been busy getting his degree and it seemed impractical to have another child while he was studying.

And once he had his degree, he’d thrown himself into working for HSS, so the time wasn’t right then, either.

And then there was The Accident, and Peter just assumed that any more children weren’t going to happen, that it would be too much strain on Stiles' body, and he’d been fine with that – he adores the three he has, and while he might have liked one more, it’s hardly the end of the world.

“Another one?” he confirms.

Stiles nods.

“I’d like to. And I know you’re going to say it’s risky, and what about my leg, and what about last time, but I’m sure it'll be fine. I’ll even stay on bedrest if I need to.

Peter arches a brow.

Stiles _hates_ bedrest.

“You’re really serious about this” he says, a smile playing around his lips.

Stiles nods again.

“I mean, while we’re living here and I have Sam and Derek and you to support me and help with the other three, it seems too good to pass up.”

“Besides” he adds ‘I’ve started dreaming about babies. I blame Sam for being the pregnancy poster boy, glowing all over the damn place. It makes me want it.”

Peter’s smile broadens, and he tells Stiles “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

“Speaking of staying here, I was talking to Derek last night…” he says, and tells Stiles about the offer to move downstairs and to make the house their permanent home.

Stiles face splits into a wide grin, and he says “That sounds amazing. Let’s say yes.”

From outside the door, they hear a quiet “Yessss!”

In unison, they call out “Delilah Hale, what have we said about listening through walls?”

Peter sighs as his eldest daughter gives a halfhearted apology, and makes a mental note to arrange for their new room to be soundproofed.

* * *

 

Derek can’t stop smiling.

And yawning.

Smiling and yawning, that’s going to be his life now, he thinks as he arranges the three small boys who are laid across his bare chest a little more comfortably.

They’re tiny, at four pounds each, and they’re early, at 34 weeks, and they’re perfect.

Even if they didn’t need the extra alpha contact because they're so small, he’s fairly certain he’d be lying here covered in babies.

Sam’s lying next to him on the bed, recovering from the birth, running his hands down the back of his baby boys, all of whom are spitting images of Derek.

“My god, look at them, they’re adorable” Derek sighs.

“You just say that because they all look like you, baby guy” Sam says with a laugh.

The babies aren’t identical, not really, but it’s hard to tell them apart when they’re all creased and red and their faces are screwed up in indignation at being out in the cold wide world.

“Those are some next level Hale eyebrows” Sam teases, indicating the eldest of the triplets, who looks like he’s about to start crying.

Derek just smiles dopily, and shuffles the restless baby over to Sam so he can feed him.

“We gotta name them, Sam” he observes, between yawns.

They’ve had names picked for months, it’s just who gets what at this stage.

“Mhm” is all he gets in response, as Sam expertly settles in to feed their son.

“Michael” he declares.

Derek nods in agreement.

He strokes a palm down the back of the middle child. “Paul?” he asks.

Sam considers for a moment, and agrees.

“So you, baby Hale, must be Daniel” Derek coos at the last child.

Daniel gurgles in response to the comforting hand resting on his back, and Paul joins in, squeaking quietly.

“How, exactly, did we end up with eight children?” Sam asks, bemused.

Derek shrugs.

“Do you mind having that many?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.

Sam shakes his head firmly.

“Absolutely not. I mean, I might later, when they’re all going through puberty and I’m facing a sea of angry mini Dereks, but right now? I couldn’t be happier.”

“Me either, Sam” Derek yawns out, and closes his eyes so he can fully enjoy the sensation of the tiny warm bodies that he’s holding close.

He's pretty sure his life is perfect.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter and Stiles don’t desert their old house entirely.

They set it up as a retreat, for the times when one or the other of the couples wants to spend some quality time with their partner, and for heats.

The keys hang on a special hook, and every so often Sam will swing the keys and waggle his eyebrows at Derek, who will check in with Peter and Stiles, and ask if they mind watching the kids for a night.

Since their families are basically one now anyway, Peter will wave them off with a wink and a smile, knowing that next week it’ll be him or Stiles who swings the keys, and Derek and Sam who’ll babysit.

Stiles, predictably, has fallen pregnant during his heat, and true to his word, he’s resting, keeping his weight off his bad leg, and being incredibly well behaved.

He's learned a thing or two about following doctors orders, it seems.

He’s made it to seven months without a single complication, injury, anomaly, or meltdown.

Phil’s very impressed, but at at their appointment he informs them that he's still putting them in chastity come Monday morning.

“We should get away for the weekend” Stiles tells Peter, eyeing up the keys.

Peter nods his agreement, saying “Already arranged, sweetheart. Noah’s picking up our three this afternoon from school and keeping them for the weekend. I think he’s going to take them shooting again.”

Stiles snickers.

“It’s cute how he thinks we don’t know what he does. Rosie couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.”

Peter laughs softly, nodding. “That, and they come back reeking of gunpowder. But they love it, and it’s harmless, I suppose.”

“If they’re going to be around firearms, I wouldn’t trust anyone except my Dad to teach them. And it’s their special thing with Pops” Stiles says, remembering with fondness the times he spent doing the same thing with his dad.

“Anyway, you said he has them all weekend?” Stiles confirms, grinning.

“All weekend” Peter says, nibbling at Stiles collarbone.

Stiles tilts his head back to give Peter better access, and says breathlessly “Peter, can we leave now?”

“I’ve already packed. Get in the car” Peter replies, after he finishes sucking a lovebite into Stiles' neck.

 

* * *

 

 

Dick jail is exactly as awful as they remember.

But it means that Stiles makes it to 36 weeks before their son is born, dark haired and restless, with a mole on his cheek and an upturned nose.

“He’s your boy all right, Stiles” grins Derek, watching the baby wriggle and squirm and never stop moving, even as he's scenting his Alpha.

Peter nods in agreement, saying “Why do I feel like he’s going to give me even more grey hairs?”

Stiles smiles tiredly. It was a long labor, and his leg aches, but it’s all worth it when he looks at the tiny reflection of himself.

“Maybe the name will keep him out of trouble” he muses.

“We can only hope” Peter says, holding his arms out to Derek for his son.

Baby Noah blinks up at Peter as he croons “Tell me, baby, if we name you after the Sheriff, will it keep you in line?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on Tumblr
> 
> https://bunnywest.tumblr.com/


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